


Trip-Hop!Verse

by minchout



Series: Trip-Hop [1]
Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Artists, Bipolar Disorder, Homelessness, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 18:39:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/995209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minchout/pseuds/minchout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of two people who find each other and try to make it work. Featuring Bipolar!Jensen and Artist!Jared.</p><p>Posted here as a multi-chapter work, but this is really a verse and each "chapter" is a specific story. I consider this complete, though I could add stories to the verse at any time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> This only comes first chronologically. It's the last fic written in this verse. 
> 
> It’s New Year’s Eve, and Jensen is too close to the edge. Set 1 week before Jensen is evicted from his apartment and finds himself on the streets. This is before he meets Jared…sort of.

Jensen felt as if he’d been standing in the cold for days. There was a clock above him set high-up into the stone face of the hospital’s entrance, and when he looked at it, it told him he’d only really been in his spot tucked against the plastic wall of the bus stop shelter for a little over half an hour. He blew warm breath into his cupped hands and thought of the coat he’d left lying on the kitchen floor of his apartment. He’d hung it on the back of a chair the night before, and when it had slid to the ground, he’d just left it where it was, a sad pile of worn wool pooled atop the linoleum.

He’d wandered out this afternoon without his coat. He didn’t even remember leaving his apartment. He only remembered that too much too small gotta get out can’t take it feeling, then he’d found himself walking down Kingshighway with the distinct impression that the whole day had passed without his knowing it. That had been happening more and more. When he wasn’t writing and pacing the apartment and talking to himself, he was out wandering the streets with no clear memory of where he’d been or for how long, just glimpses of happenings and conversations with strangers that he remembered the way he remembered bits of a movie he’d seen a long time before. It scared the ever living crap out of him. Scared him enough the manic high he’d been riding the past couple of weeks began to feel overwhelming and terrifying rather than good and right and perfect and inspiring and all the other things mania always made him feel before it spiraled him right the fuck out of control. It scared him enough it got his ass walking to the city hospital down the street, the one that had to treat everyone, whether they had insurance or not.

Jensen had stopped taking his meds about a month earlier. He’d run out of the lithium first, then the anxiety medication, which was when he’d stopped sleeping really at all, then he’d run out of his anti-psychotic, which was probably the most worrying. He wasn’t schizo or anything like that, but the mania sometimes brought on psychotic episodes when it got bad, and without the lithium to stabilize his moods, the mania would always get bad. It wasn’t that he had decided he didn’t need the medicine anymore; Jensen hated his meds, but he knew he needed them. The problem was he couldn’t afford them. And a few days off his meds, and he didn’t much care that he couldn’t afford them. Didn’t much care that he couldn’t pay his rent either, or that his landlord was threatening to evict if he didn’t clear his debt by next rent day.

But he’d had a moment of clarity when he’d found himself on that busy street that afternoon, the whole day gone without a trace, and he knew if he didn’t get help soon he’d lose what little control of the situation he still had.

Jensen was terrified of hospitals, had been since he was a teenager and had been locked up for one horrible summer after he was first diagnosed, but he took his moment of clarity and marched his crazy ass toward the hospital doors anyway. A group of people were ambling down the street toward him, the girls in too short skirts, glittery in a way that made Jensen want to hide. They had paper crowns on their heads, and one of the guys wore a pair of cheap glasses, ‘2006’ masking his face, the zeroes over his eyes. It was New Year’s Eve.  
Jensen froze in their path and the group parted around him, paying him no attention.

“You okay, buddy?”

There was a nurse standing outside, smoking a cigarette that was burned almost down to the filter. His hair was buzzed to his scalp, and he kept running a bony hand across his head as if to warm it.

Jensen nodded, tried to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat. He made an involuntary noise like the squawk of a bird, and the nurse raised an eyebrow.

“You sure?” he said.

“I better go in,” Jensen said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder at the doors.

“Yeah,” the nurse said.

When the doors slid open, they released a suffocating warmth and Jensen cringed with his whole body. His heart sped, beating thu-thu-thump in his chest, an offbeat and startling rhythm that made him aware of every single vein in his body. Last time he’d been in a hospital, he’d left a completely different person. He hated the smell of hospitals, had to fight the urge to push to the ground every stone statue of a useless saint that he came across. All the hospitals in this city were affiliated with some kind of religion, and Jensen hated it. God wasn’t in hospitals. Hospitals were the place people went when God forgot them.

Jensen rubbed the palm of his hand across his mouth, tugging his lips out of shape. He imagined that he could feel the scar across them, remembered the feel of the blade that had made it, how much it had bled, how he’d tasted the blood, and how his mouth had still been cottony from his last ECT treatment the week before.

The ER was busy, a body in almost every chair, a lady who looked like she was in her 90s and at the end of life was lying in a bed that had been left in a corridor. A man was holding one of her hands. Maybe he was her son.

“Can I help you?” the front desk nurse asked.

Jensen licked his lips, tried to find his words.

The nurse was eyeing him with sympathy and no small amount of suspicion. “This isn’t a homeless shelter, son,” she said.

Jensen shook his head, looking sheepishly down at himself. He realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d showered. “No, I’m not. I’m not homeless. But I…I think I need help.”

When he looked up, the nurse was waiting for him to continue.

“I’m bipolar,” Jensen said. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had my meds.”

The nurse nodded. “Are you experiencing an episode, sir? Mania or depression?”

“Yes.”

“Do you feel you’re a danger to yourself or others?”

Jensen shook his head. “I’m not suicidal or anything.”

“This is an emergency room, sir. If this isn’t an emergency, you’d be better off with your primary care physician.”

“You have to treat me,” Jensen said. “I know my rights. You have to treat me.”

“We do,” the nurse agreed. “I’m not turning you away.” She slid a clipboard with some paperwork across the desk to him. “Fill this out. We’ll see what we can do.”

***

Jensen sat on the floor against a wall. His entire body ached and his hands were shaking like an old man’s. He’d gotten himself this far, and he didn’t trust the system, but he had to hope that someone here could help. Ten minutes later and Jensen was up on his feet, pacing. He walked circles around the waiting room chairs. He snagged a pen from the front desk and wrote the poem that was on a loop in his head all over his palms, and when he ran out of room, he used the backs of his hands and his forearms. He was covered in ink before he realized he was talking to himself and the woman across from him was staring, one arm curled protectively around her kid who looked like he had a broken hand.

Jensen grinned at the woman and thought about explaining, telling her how the words were a part of him and left their trace on his brain so it was only right they leave a trace on his skin that everyone could see. He thought about explaining it, but she wouldn’t understand. And when it was her son’s turn to see a doctor, Jensen called out “Sorry!” across the room and could only hope she believed him.

“Sir!” the front desk nurse said. “You’re going to have to keep it down.”

Jensen nodded. He sat in the seat the woman had vacated, dragged his ink covered hands through his hair.  
There was a touch on his shoulder and Jensen jumped.

“Hey. It’s okay.”

Jensen nodded, couldn’t drag his eyes further up than the hem of the doctor’s white coat.

“Why don’t you come with me.”

“No.” Jensen stood and backed away a step.

The doctor didn’t look upset; he just held his hands up, palms out.

“You came here for help, didn’t you?”

“You can’t…you can’t admit me, not if I don’t volunteer.”

“I have no plans to admit you, Mr. Ackles.”

There was a security guard creeping slowly toward him and Jensen shied, stepped closer to the doctor.

The doctor shook his head at the guard. “My name’s Dr. Rosenbaum. I just want to take you to an exam room, talk to you about what’s going on.”

Jensen nodded, eyeing the guard and following the doctor at the same time.

“You’re young,” Jensen said.

“I’m older than I look,” the Doctor said. He smiled. “But my baby face helps with the ladies.”

Jensen tried to smile back. It didn’t quite work.

The doctor went through the usual checks—temp, blood pressure, got handsy with Jensen’s stomach, at which point he whistled through his teeth, said, “You need a few good meals in you. You make me want to take you home to my mom, let her fatten you up. When was the last time you ate?”

Jensen shrugged.

“Don’t remember, huh?”

“A day. Maybe two.”

“You’re pretty dehydrated, too.” He pinched the skin on the back of Jensen’s hand. “Would you object to an IV with some fluids? Maybe a meal from the cafeteria?”

Jensen shook his head.

A nurse popped his head in through the curtain. “Rosey, you’ve got another one in curtain two. Gallstones.”

“Give me a minute.”

The doctor made Jensen lay back then prepped an IV stand, tugged a stool over to the bed and sat, went to work getting the needle in Jensen’s hand.

“Don’t the nurses usually do this?”

“Usually.”

“Why am I getting special treatment?”

The doctor just shrugged, ran a piece of tape over the back of Jensen’s hand to hold the needle in place.

“You wanna fuck me,” Jensen said.

Dr. Rosenbaum barked a startled laugh. “Uh, no,” he said. “I have a girlfriend. And if I didn’t, I like my partners a little more stable and a little less covered in ink.”

Jensen looked at his hands where the blue ink was smeared, barely legible.

“It’s all over your face, too. And your neck,” the doctor said.

“I was gonna lose it. I needed to get it down.”

“Lose it?”

“My poem. I was writing a poem.”

“I see. You wrote here that you’re bipolar, Mr. Ackles. You’ve been diagnosed?”

Jensen cleared his throat. “When I was fifteen, yeah.”

“Not your first manic episode, then?”

“No.”

“Psychosis?”

Jensen looked away, nodded his head once.

“Do you feel like you’re a danger to yourself, Jensen?”

“I don’t know,” Jensen said. It came out barely more than a whisper.

The doctor sighed. “There are no beds for you here. The best I could do is keep you overnight here in the ER, get a social worker in to see you. The social worker could probably find you a placement.”

Jensen shook his head. “No. No, I don’t need that. I don’t want to be hospitalized. I just need meds.”

“I can’t do that, not without a psych evaluation.”

“That’s…that can’t be right. I’m here. I came. I’m…I need medicine.”

“You were on something before?”

Jensen pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, the needle of the IV jerked, and he hissed, flattened his hand on the bed. “Yeah,” he said. “Lithium. Klonopin. Seroquel.”

The doctor wrote something on his chart. “Why did you stop taking them?”

“I lost my job about six months back. I couldn’t afford them anymore.”

“I’m guessing you don’t have insurance?”

Jensen shook his head.

“Okay,” Dr. Rosenbaum said. “Okay. Look. I’m going to check on this other patient. I’ll make sure there’s food coming your way, and when I come back, we’ll talk about your options.”

There were muffled sounds of speech coming from behind the curtain to Jensen’s right. When Dr. Rosenbaum slipped from Jensen’s side, drawing back the curtain, Jensen caught a glimpse of a small, brown haired girl tucked up against a giant of a man who was laying back and pressing one hand to his stomach. He looked over at the same time as Jensen, a grimace on his face beneath floppy brown bangs. When their eyes met, the giant smiled a little. Jensen caught dimples before Dr. Rosenbaum pulled the curtain shut.

***

Jensen was drowsing. When he surfaced enough to think about it, he realized they’d probably given him a sedative, then he fell back under where everything was hazy good and cotton soft. When he woke again, there was a plate of food on the tray in front of him—chicken fingers, mashed potatoes, green beans—and Jensen, suddenly ravenous, sat up and fell to it, shoveling mashed potatoes in with the flimsy plastic fork from the tray.

There was a shout from the other side of the curtain.

“Hey! Hey, happy New Year, man!”

Jensen swallowed his mouthful of food. “What time’s’it?” he said, his words slurred.

“Twelve oh one. I was beginning to think you’d sleep through it.”

“Too hungry for that,” Jensen said. “Apparently.”

“You got food over there, man?” The guy groaned. “I thought I smelled food. I’m starving.”

“I thought you were in for gallstones.”

“Ha. Yeah, well, nothing can stop me from being hungry. I eat like a tank. Besides, they gave me some pretty good pain meds, so, you know, I’m not feeling much of anything right now. Kind of a fucked up way to spend New Year’s.”

“Sounds pretty good to me,” Jensen said.

“What about you?” the guy said.

“What about me?”

“What’re you in for?”

Jensen thought about lying, but then he found the truth spilling out of his mouth. “Mania,” he said.

The guy laughed as if Jensen had told a joke.

Jensen stared at one of his chicken tenders. He wasn’t hungry anymore. He leaned over, put the plate of food on the floor and gave it a shove. It slid haphazard across the tile and under the curtain between him and the other guy.

“You can have my chicken fingers,” he said.

The guy laughed, and Jensen saw long fingers reach down, grab the plate. “You shouldn’t have done that, man,” the guy said. “I’m like a puppy. Feed me once, I’m gonna follow you around forever.”

Jensen felt a sudden ache in his chest. Inexplicably, his eyes welled up and tears coursed down across his cheeks and nose. He pulled his legs up so he was sitting cross-legged on the bed then turned his face and stared at the curtain, wondered what this guy would do if he got out of his bed, closed the space between them, and curled up against the guy’s side. Jensen couldn’t even remember what this guy looked like, didn’t know his name, but the guy had smiled at him and was talking to him like he was just a normal guy, and Jensen wanted to go home with him.

Jensen heard Dr. Rosenbaum’s voice from behind the curtain. He was telling the guy that he was free to go, was giving him the name of a specialist to see about his gallbladder in case he kept having attacks. When Rosenbaum pulled back the curtain and slipped through to Jensen’s side, Jensen turned his face away, suddenly sure that if he saw the man again he’d do something crazy like offer himself on his hands and knees, beg the guy to take him home and take care of him.

“You okay, Jensen?” Dr. Rosenbaum said.

“Yeah,” Jensen said. “Just…Happy fucking New Year, you know?”

When Jensen looked back at him, Dr. Rosenbaum gave him a sad smile. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Jensen. There’s a woman outside who I think can help you. I’d like you to chat with her if you’re feeling up to it.”

Jensen returned his smile, but he let the doctor’s words slip past him, let them turn to white noise that covered all of the rest of the anxious clatter in his head until it was all just so much noise. It grew louder and louder until it peaked and snapped and it was all silent. Then there was just a haze that Jensen wouldn’t wake from for many months to come.


	2. Stray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jared finds a stray Jensen and takes him home.

There were a few things that were as regular to Jared as breathing. One of those things was waking up in the very earliest part of the morning, when the sun was still stretching itself up and over the horizon, and his dogs were still sleep snuffly, warm and lax, and the hardwood floors of his apartment were still cold against his bare feet, despite the heat from the furnace. He loved the quiet of this time of day, and no amount of sleep was worth missing it.

That morning, Jared put Sadie and Harley into their harnesses, rubbing them behind their ears and letting them snuffle into his palms as he did so, and leashed them up to take them for a run. He pulled a skull cap over his bed head, though he’d probably have it off halfway into the jog, and zipped up his hoodie before clicking his tongue at the dogs to get them moving. Once everyone was set, they moved out into the morning.

Harley and Sadie were good dogs, used to their morning run and as settled into this routine as Jared. They ran with a purpose, noses forward and loping gaits, bodies slinking together as they ate up the sidewalk. Nothing distracted them. Usually. But this morning, something was off. They’d been running maybe fifteen minutes, long enough to reach the alleyway Jared only braved because he was a big man with two big dogs, when Sadie abruptly stopped and switched direction, tugging at her leash and whining and wagging her tail. Harley woofed into the quiet and sat, and Jared was so thrown by his dogs going two separate directions that he tripped over Harley, which made the big dog jump up and, barking, run a circle around Jared who’d ended up on his ass on the concrete. Sadie’s leash slipped out of his hand in the chaos.

“Sadie!” Jared shouted. He stood. “Come,” he said to Harley, and chased after his usually very well-behaved dog.

Sadie had stopped not too far ahead, and Jared slowed. “Hey, girl,” he murmured as he picked up her leash and patted her head. “What the hell got into you?” She whined and moved forward again, and that was when Jared saw what had made her stop.

There was a guy there, huddled against the brick of a building and half hidden by a dumpster. He was covering his face a bit, like he thought Sadie might bite him, but when nothing seemed to happen, he uncurled the fingers of one hand so Sadie could sniff. Once she decided she liked his smell, she moved closer, and the man scratched under her chin. “Hey,” he said, low, his voice no more than a rasp.

“Sorry about her,” Jared said. “She usually doesn’t bother other people. She pretty unsure of anyone who isn’t me, actually, so I’m not sure exactly why she felt the need to investigate you. Sorry if she gave you a scare.”

The man peeked up at Jared then immediately looked away. “S’okay,” he said. He took his fingers from Sadie then and curled them up toward his face, toward his mouth. They were grimed with dirt and looked too skinny, all bone, and when the man glanced up at Jared again, nervous, Jared realized he was crowding the poor guy and probably freaking him right the hell out. He backed up immediately, tugging Sadie with him. When he wasn’t all up in the guy’s business anymore, he crouched and scratched at Sadie’s neck, his eyes on the man, taking in his worn, torn jeans with what Jared hoped was just dried mud on the shins and knees, his skinny arms that he used to hide himself with, the complete lack of a coat despite the January wind.

“Hey, man,” Jared said. “You okay?”

There was a bitter snort from the man, and he slid down from his crouch to settle against the wall in a slumping sit. The movement looked bone weary, painful and slow. The man finally dropped his arms so Jared could see his face, though he couldn’t see much through the growth of beard and smears of dirt.

“I’m okay right now,” the man said. “You aren’t planning to change that, are you?”

“What do you mean?” Jared said, frowning.

“You don’t look like the kind who’d play ‘roll the bum’ for fun,” the man said. “You aren’t, are you?”

Jared shook his head.

The man grimaced, his entire face scrunching, and he wrapped an arm around his stomach and groaned.

“Hey,” Jared said. He moved in without even thinking, touching the man’s face, trying to make sure he was all right. “Hey, what can I do?”

The man looked up at him, his eyes very green and begging for something, and Jared had no clue what it was he was supposed to give him. He swallowed, willing himself to say something or do something helpful. “Are you hurt?” he said.

“Haven’t been feeling so good,” the man said.

“You—” Jared stood abruptly. He looked at his dogs, who were both sitting quietly, staring at him, waiting for him to do something.

“Can you walk?” Jared said to the man.

“Huh?” the man said.

Jared knelt again. “Can you walk? I can help you some, but I gotta get these beasts home, too, so I need at least one of my hands.”

“Wait,” the man said. “‘Too’? You’re not…I mean…” the man trailed off. He was looking at Jared with that pleading look again, but this time Jared thought it might translate into something like “please tell me you’re joking” rather than “please take me home with you.” But Jared couldn’t do that. He didn’t know this guy’s story, but he knew for a fact that he could not leave him out here like this.

Jared said, “Do you think you need a hospital? Would that be better?”

“No. No hospitals,” the man said. And of that, at least, he sounded very sure.

Jared helped him stand. Once on his feet, he seemed uncertain. He looked from Jared to the dogs then down the alleyway, and Jared thought that if he could have managed it, he might have run off. Instead, he followed Jared, limpingly, though he stopped every few minutes to drag in deep, rasping breaths.

“You okay, man?” Jared would say, and the man’d just nod then walk again. He looked so skinny. Scarecrow. Bag of bones.

It took too long to get home, and Jared had to help the man up the stairs to his apartment. Once inside, the dogs tried to nose their way to the man for pettings and treats, and the man backed up against the door and closed his eyes, so Jared said, “Hold on a sec, okay?” and pulled them into their crates, mumbling apologies.

When Jared looked up, the man was watching him, an unreadable expression on his dirty face. “Thanks,” he said.

Jared nodded. He led the man into the kitchen and sat him at the table. “Are you…are you hungry?” Jared said. “You must be.”

The man started to say something, but then he started coughing, a deep rumbling noise that sounded like it hurt in his lungs, and Jared watched as the man gripped the edge of the table with one hand until the coughing died out. The man sucked in a breath, and Jared swore it rattled.

“Man, that doesn’t sound so good,” Jared said. “Maybe we should get you to a doctor.”

The man grabbed the cuff of Jared’s hoodie and looked up at him. “No. Please.” He shook his head. “I can’t go to the hospital.”

Jared nodded and sat in the chair next to him. The man seemed to realize suddenly that he was holding onto Jared, and he let go and curled his hand into a fist then pulled it into his lap. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay,” Jared said. “What’s your name?”

The man raised an eyebrow.

“I mean,” Jared said, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. I just…”

“Jensen,” the man said.

Jared smiled. Hopefully it looked friendly and not as awkward as it felt. “I’m Jared,” he said.

The man only nodded, and Jared felt himself flush a bit, though he wasn’t exactly sure why. He busied himself making some scrambled eggs and toast, and after thinking about it, put all four eggs on the man’s—Jensen’s—plate because it looked like he could really use it and Jared could always make himself something later.

He put the plate of food down in front of Jensen, and Jensen just looked from him, to the plate, then back again.

“Eat it while it’s hot,” Jared said. “You’re skin and bones, man.”

Jensen reached out a hand, so slowly, and grabbed the fork, like he was afraid Jared might slap his hand away if he moved to quickly. But once he wrapped his fingers around the metal, he went at the plate of eggs like he hadn’t eaten in days and Jared really, really hoped that wasn’t the case but knew there was a good chance it was.

While Jensen ate, Jared called in sick to work. It hurt a little bit to do it; he’d only just gotten this teaching job and hadn’t even been there a whole year. He taught art to grade school kids at a time when art wasn’t something administrators were all that interested in keeping around, so most days Jared tried his best to seem absolutely essential, but one glance at the man practically licking eggs off of a plate in his kitchen let him know he was doing the right thing. The kids could do without their art teacher for a day.

He went back into the kitchen to make a protein shake, the routine familiar and calming. Milk, frozen banana, almond butter, whey protein. Put it all in the blender and let it go. By the time he was slurping it through a bendy straw, Jensen was finished with his breakfast and staring openly at Jared. Without thinking, Jared replaced his straw with a new one and set the shake down on the table.

Jensen looked embarrassed. He squirmed in his chair and cleared his throat, which brought on another coughing fit. When he could breathe again, he looked at Jared and said, “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah,” Jared said. “I really, really do.”

Jensen looked away. “Thanks,” he said. He pulled the shake in close to him and drank, though he took it more slowly than he had the eggs.

“When was the last time you ate, man?” Jared said.

Jensen shrugged. Slurped. “Don’t know. It’s been a while.”

Jared just watched him drink. When he finished, he pushed the glass away and stood. “Thanks,” he said. “Uh, for everything. I’ll get outta your way now.”

“Wait, what?” Jared said. “Where are you going?”

“Oh,” Jensen said. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. You probably want…”

“What?” Jared said again, not sure what Jensen thought he ‘probably wanted,’ and even less sure he wanted to find out. “No, I don’t want anything. But you don’t just gotta leave, man. C’mon. Shower. Clean clothes. Warm apartment. Stay,” he said. “Please. I wouldn’t feel right just letting you walk out of here.”

Jensen looked like he could collapse at any minute, and his face was twisted into an uncertain frown, his eyes wary. “Why would you do that? You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you obviously need a place to crash. I know you’re sick, and sleeping by a dumpster in the middle of winter isn’t gonna help that.”

“There are lots of homeless people, Jared,” Jensen said. “Why me?”

“Sadie liked you.” Jared shrugged. “That’s good enough for me.”

“Are you crazy?” Jensen said. He sounded suddenly angry. “Man, I could be anyone.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe I wanna get to know you.”

“Fuck,” Jensen said, shaking his head. He started coughing again. The fit didn’t last as long, but when he looked up at Jared, he was all wide glistening eyes and very wet, very pink mouth. He looked scared suddenly, and he swayed on his feet as his eyes fluttered shut. Jared took two steps toward him and grabbed him by the shoulders before he could fall.

“Wow,” Jensen said. He opened his eyes and looked up at Jared. “You’re big,” he said.

“Just a big, dumb Texas boy,” Jared agreed.

Jensen shook his head. “Goddamn,” he mumbled. “Feel like I got cotton stuffed in my head. Feel stoned, but this ain’t half as much fun.”

“Yeah,” Jared said. “You should lie down or something. You think you could stand long enough to shower?”

Jensen seemed to consider it. He pressed his hands against Jared’s chest and steadied himself. “Okay,” he said. “I’m good.”

Jared showed him the bathroom and gave him some clean towels and tried to leave him to it, but he couldn’t stop himself from worrying, so he sat on his bed staring at the bathroom door and listening for even the slightest sound.

Jensen was in the shower for a very long time. Long enough Jared was ready to go in and check on him, but then he heard the screech of the pipes as Jensen turned the water off, heard the hush of the shower curtain being pulled back, and he let himself relax a little.

“Uh, man?” Jensen said, his voice muffled through the wood.

“Yeah?” Jared said. He went to the door, just barely keeping himself from pressing his ear to it.

“You, uh, you got a razor?” Jensen said. “I hate to keep asking for things, but…”

You haven’t asked for anything, Jared thought. But what he said was, “Yeah. Just under the sink.”

Jared heard rustling, then a pause, then the door opened and Jensen looked surprised to find Jared standing as close as he was. He took a step back, looking at the cheap blue bic in his hand rather than at Jared. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, and, freshly scrubbed, Jared could see a pale face with freckles, long dark lashes, brown hair, and a little red in his beard.

“You clean up nice,” Jared said, before his brain could catch up with his mouth.

Jensen just laughed, and without all the dirt, Jared could see the flush that spread across his chest and up his neck, that pinked his cheeks. “Yeah,” he said. “Too pretty for my own damn good.” His mouth twisted into that frown that already made Jared want to do anything he could to not have to see it again, and Jensen rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. The words had the ring of something that Jensen had been told before and had taken to heart, though not as a compliment.

“That’s not what I meant,” Jared said.

Jensen just shrugged.

“I’ll let you shave then. There’s cream in the medicine cabinet.”

“No, wait,” Jensen said. Jared looked back at him. “I wouldn’t ask, but…I can’t seem to keep my hands from shaking, and this beard itches like a son-of-a-bitch and I don’t know when I’ll have the chance again…”

“You want me to shave you?” Jared blurted.

“No,” Jensen said. “No. Sorry. Yeah. It was a stupid idea.”

“No, man,” Jared said. “I’ll do it. Just…I’ve never done this before.”

“Yeah, well,” Jensen said. “Me neither.”

“Do you? Is it okay if I come in there with you?” Jared said.

“Don’t see how else this will work.” Jensen backed up and sat on the closed toilet lid, which slipped sideways a bit—old, cheap thing that it was—before Jensen righted it and settled in, looking up at Jared with an odd trust and just a hint of amusement. “Razor,” he said, and held it out to Jared.

Jared took it from him and set it aside then got some water running in the sink because he knew it would take it a minute to heat to anything like comfortable. He pulled his shaving kit from under the sink. There were scissors and a good electric razor that his momma had bought him one Christmas and that he’d never really bothered to use.

“Should maybe cut it down some,” he explained while he set everything out. “That’ll probably make it easier to shave.

Jensen just nodded, darted a tongue out to lick at his lower lip.

Jared moved in and felt the strange intimacy in the situation in the way Jensen had to crane his head back, baring his neck to look up at him, in the way Jared could hear their mingled breathing, loud in the still of the room, in the way Jared had to touch Jensen’s chin, thumb and forefinger against the rough growth of beard, to position Jensen’s face the way Jared wanted it.

“Hold still,” Jared said. Jensen just ‘hmm’d’ and let his eyes flutter shut as Jared got to work cutting some of the thick hair away and tried not to notice how delicate Jensen’s eyelids seemed, or the sweep of lashes against his tired face, or the freckles that dotted his nose.

As he trimmed, he talked. “Don’t think I’ve ever had a beard this long, man,” and “At least it wasn’t so cold out today. Wind stung like a bitch yesterday morning,” and so on, just to keep some sort of noise in the room to keep what he could already tell was a growing affection for this person he hardly knew from creeping into his chest and making his heart flutter and his lungs hurt as if he were gasping for air.

When he cut away the hair above Jensen’s lip, he revealed a spot where no hair grew, a white twisted scar bisecting the left side of his mouth cutting across one lip and over the next. It was an old scar, and had healed well. Jensen’s mouth was almost too perfectly arched despite it, as if whatever had hurt him had only scratched the surface. Before Jared could stop himself, he touched the scar, dragged his thumb downwards along the line of it, smooth skin edged with rough hair. Jensen opened his eyes and flinched away.

“Sorry,” Jared said. “Sorry. I just…that’s quite a scar.”

Jensen’s mouth twisted, rueful. “Yeah,” he said. “A little gift from my first boyfriend.”

Jared wanted very much to sit down and put his head in his hands. He was starting to feel for the first time that maybe he’d gotten in over his head with Jensen because now that he’d started…well, whatever he’d started, he had no intention of doing anything but following through.

Jensen started coughing then, and put his hand out to grip Jared’s forearm, his shoulders hunched and back bowed while he worked through the fit.

“It’s okay,” Jared said. “Let it out, man.”

“Sorry,” Jensen rasped. “Don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You’re sick,” Jared said, his displeasure obvious.

“No hospitals,” Jensen said. He locked eyes with Jared.

“Okay,” Jared said. “But we could at least…there’s those Walgreens clinic things.”

“Those things cost money.”

“I wasn’t just gonna drop you outside the door, man,” Jared said.

Jensen swallowed and nodded. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jared said.

He went back to work, spread shaving cream across Jensen’s cheeks and down his neck when he lifted his chin for it. Jensen watched Jared work this time, eyes locked to Jared’s face, but Jared kept his eyes firmly on his own hands and tried to ignore his cock, which was taking interest in the fact that he was so close to and touching this man who smelled a bit like Jared himself from being in Jared’s shower and using Jared’s soaps. This very pretty man. And obviously very fucked up man, Jared tried to remind himself and his cock both. It would do neither of them any good to make a move on someone who’d probably say yes just because he thought he owed Jared something.

When Jared finished, he rinsed his hands and wet the razor. He held it poised above Jensen’s face and Jensen finally caught his eyes.

“Don’t cough, okay?” Jared said.

The scarred side of Jensen’s mouth twitched upwards like he wanted to smile. “I’ll do my best,” he said.

Jared worked in smooth, even strokes, listening to the satisfying noise of stubble scraped from skin and feeling Jensen’s breath against the inside of his wrist. He recalled his father doing this for him when he was younger and just beginning to grow a patchy beard, teaching him how to shave by letting Jared feel the path the razor should follow against his cheek, against his neck, the soft pressure of it. When Jared finished, he took a deep breath and stepped back, his fingers twitching for the permission to touch Jensen again.

Jensen stood slowly and looked at himself in the mirror, wiping at his face with the hand towel Jared had set on the sink. His reflection caught Jared’s own in the mirror and he smiled, the first genuine grin Jared had seen on his face, and it reached all the way up to his eyes to crinkle the corners.

“Thanks,” he said. “It feels fucking great, man.” He coughed into his hand, then, just two small coughs. “Fuck,” he muttered. Then he crumpled to the floor.

“Fuck,” Jared echoed. “Jensen! Hey, man, c’mon!” He knelt beside him and grabbed his face in one hand, trying to get Jensen to look at him.

Jensen’s eyes were heavy lidded, but open. “Wow,” he said. “Definitely not as fun as being stoned.”

“Don’t joke,” Jared said, feeling a little pouty.

“Hey,” Jensen rasped. “I’m a funny guy. Can’t help it.”

“Joke all you want went you aren’t halfway to dead on my bathroom floor,” Jared said. He tugged at Jensen until he was sitting up and grasping loosely at Jared’s bicep. “Let’s get you on the bed,” Jared said.

“No,” Jensen said. “Not taking your bed. You can stick me on the couch.”

“Or I can put you some place warm and comfortable, like the bed,” Jared said. “Couch is a piece of shit.”

“Perfect for me, then,” Jensen said as Jared tried to lift him into his arms.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” Jared said, “or I’ll put Harley and Sadie in the bed with you. And they’re cover hogs.”

Jensen snorted.

“Fuck,” Jared said when he finally got Jensen into his arms. “You’re heavy for a bag of bones.”

“I’m 6’1”, man,” Jensen mumbled. “Only a sasquatch like you would look at me and think ‘small.’”

“Fair enough,” Jared said. He settled Jensen on the bed. “Sorry I didn’t have time to change the sheets.”

“Don’t care,” Jensen mumbled. He flipped over and stuck his face into Jared’s pillow and was out within minutes.

Jared pulled the covers up around Jensen, but after a few minutes of fretting and listening to make sure Jensen was still breathing, he decided Jensen probably wouldn’t be happy to wake up to find Jared watching him sleep. So Jared did things. He let the dogs out of their crates and fed them, made them scrambled eggs, too, to apologize for leaving them for so long. He called the school again to make sure they’d found a sub and to tell them he wouldn’t be in tomorrow either. That would give him today, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday with Jensen to make sure he was okay and to figure out what the hell to do with him.

He wondered what Jensen’s story was. The kind of dirt he’d been carrying came from more than a day or two on the streets. Jared poked around on the internet for a while looking for missing persons that matched Jensen’s description, but he wasn’t a detective and really had no idea how to start, and didn’t know if he should only check within the city, or if Jensen might have wound up here from another state. He didn’t even know how old Jensen was, or how long he’d been on the street. When his quick search turned up nothing helpful, he started looking for clinics and urgent care facilities in the area. He wasn’t sure why Jensen wouldn’t go to a hospital, but he’d seemed okay when Jared mentioned the clinic thing, so the first order of business when Jensen woke up was to get him to someone who could take care of that cough.

He wrote down a few options then tried to sketch for a while. After a time, he gravitated back to his bedroom and sat in the worn desk chair cum laundry hamper over by the window so he could use the natural light. He told himself very firmly that he would not sketch Jensen’s sleeping form.

His towel had fallen off at some point during the struggle to get him into the bed, and Jared hadn’t noticed it then, but Jensen had kicked all of the covers into a bundle around his legs so Jared couldn’t help but notice now the dip of his lower back, the curve of his ass, barely covered. He felt like a perv until he noticed he could see all of Jensen’s vertebrae and every one of his ribs, and the sight of that effectively killed his burgeoning hard-on.

Jensen’s peaceful sleep didn’t last long. He started coughing, and he woke with a start, pressing up onto his forearms and ducking his head to cough into his chest. He turned over and sat straight up, gasping for breath and looking more than a little panicked.

“Hey, man,” Jared said. He sat on the edge of the bed and grasped Jensen’s shoulder. “I’m right here. I gotcha.”

Jensen licked his lips as he got his breathing under control. “Thanks,” he said, quiet. He noticed his nudity and pulled the sheet up to cover his lap, grimacing.

Jared jumped up. “Yeah,” he said. “You probably need some clothes, huh? Probably don’t wanna get back in what you were wearing.” He opened and shut drawers looking for something that might fit Jensen. He found an old t-shirt from college with a faded llama on the front that pulled too tight around his chest, and a pair of his brother’s sweat pants that he’d left the last time he visited. “Here,” he said. “Those should fit.” Jensen was watching him carefully, but he didn’t want to look back.

“Jared?” Jensen said.

“Yeah?” Jared said. The plaintive note in Jensen’s voice made him finally look up.

Jensen looked flushed and sweaty, and very, very freaked.

“I think I’d be willing to try that clinic now.”

“Yeah,” Jared said. “I think that’s a good idea.”

***

Jensen was skittish at the clinic, practically shaking, and Jared couldn’t tell if it was nerves or the sickness, but it reminded Jared of when he had to take Sadie to the vet and made him feel guilty in the same way. Jensen was wearing a pair of Jared’s sneakers with three pairs of socks so the sneakers didn’t slip around on his feet and Jared’s old pea coat buttoned all the way up, even though Jared himself was sweating in just his t-shirt and hoodie.

The nurse let Jared follow Jensen into the exam room, though she looked at him strangely and asked Jensen if he was sure he wanted Jared there. For his part, Jensen looked as if he might lose his shit if Jared left, but he thought he understood what the nurse was doing. Jared wasn’t an expert, but Jensen showed all the signs of some kind of abuse.

Jensen stripped himself of the pea coat and the sweater underneath, and the nurse listened to his lungs as he breathed in and coughed, breathed in and coughed. She asked him what his symptoms were, and it was almost painful to watch Jensen try to figure out what exactly to tell her because he’d obviously been feeling bad for a long time and didn’t know exactly how to separate out the sickness from his normal state.

In the end, it was pneumonia, which Jared had sort of suspected. The nurse sent him home with an antibiotic and plenty of other instructions that Jared had every intention of following, then they were back in the car and on the way to Jared’s apartment.

Jensen leaned his head against the window and watched the streets as they drove. Jared thought he must be halfway to sleep, but then Jensen looked over at him.

“I’ll pay you back, man,” he said.

“You don’t have to do that,” Jared said.

“I know it seems like I’m not good for it,” Jensen said. “But I’ll get a job. I’ll pay you back.”

“Really,” Jared said. “It’s no problem.”

“You say that now—”

“Jensen,” Jared said. “I don’t want anything from you. Honestly. Except, well, maybe you could make an effort to not die in my bed? But that’s just common courtesy.” He smiled at Jensen.

Jensen laughed. “Yeah, I guess I could do that.

***

Jensen spent the better part of the next three days in Jared’s bed with Jared trying to force sleep and food on him, one after the other. It was take out Thursday and Friday, but Jared’s momma was always telling him a growing boy needed real food and he thought that probably went double for someone like Jensen who’d been living off of god knows what for who knows how long, so he called Sandy, whose music classroom was next door to Jared’s and who Jared had dated a few times when he was in college, and had her walk him through some simple recipes. He made vegetable soup, and a pasta casserole, and Saturday night he grilled up some steaks because Jensen might need vegetables, but Jared was of the opinion that a good steak could cure most ills.

Jensen alternated between grumpy and pitiful, embarrassed and unabashedly straightforward, and Jared could not figure him out. He tried not to ask any hard questions, figured he would save that for when Jensen felt better, but he told Jensen a little about himself when Jensen was awake. He told him about teaching, about how much he’d thought it would suck to go from painting for gallery shows to teaching second graders, but how it turned out to be surprisingly cool. He showed him some of his sketches, blushing when Jensen said he was awesome and changing the subject to stories about Chad and the time he’d tried to get Jared to buy a t-shirt stand in Mexico and spend the rest of his days chasing half naked German tourists.

One thing he was certain of, though: he liked Jensen more and more with each passing minute, found himself working hard to coax smiles out of the man, who smiled only reluctantly, but each hard-won smile was so goddamned worth it. He found himself trying to figure out what TV shows Jensen might like and pointed them out to Jensen as he flipped channels. And he went to the library Saturday morning and brought Jensen some books, more than he’d ever checked out at one time so he could be sure there would be at least one thing that would interest Jensen.

And Jared thought Jensen maybe liked him back. He listened carefully to everything Jared said, and he seemed to brighten when Jared was in the room with him. But Jared realized he’d been wrong when Sunday, after leaving for a few minutes to buy them both breakfast, he came home to find Jensen dressed with a small backpack Jared recognized from his high school days on his back and Jared’s hoodie in his hand and halfway out the door. The dogs were going crazy in the apartment behind him, and Jensen shushed them before shutting the door then turning around to find himself face-to-face with Jared.

“Jared—”

“What are you doing?” Jared said.

Jensen held his hands up in a placating gesture. “I didn’t…” He cleared his throat and straightened. “I didn’t take much,” he said. “I’m sorry. It’s just some granola bars and water, and I didn’t think you’d miss this backpack. But you can have it all back.” He slipped the pack off his shoulder. “Here,” he said, thrusting it at Jared.

“I don’t care what you took, Jensen,” he said. “I want to know why the hell you’re leaving.”

“Oh,” Jensen said. He looked down at the frayed strap in his hand. “I’m feeling better, so…” He shrugged.

“Jen…” Jared took a deep breath, wanting very much to get this right. “Of course you can go if you want to. But I’d like you to stay.”

“You can’t be serious,” Jensen said. He sounded exasperated.

Jared should have been surprised how hurt he was by that. He rubbed at his chest, cleared his throat. “I thought you liked me,” he said after he found his words. “I didn’t realize it had been so bad here.”

Both of Jensen’s eyebrows shot up. “No. God Jared, that’s not what I meant at all. You’ve been great.” He looked to the door behind him where the dogs were still barking. “Can we do this inside?” he said.

Jared nodded, feeling numb, and followed Jensen into the apartment. He sat on the couch where his blanket and pillow were bunched up from him using it as a bed the past few nights. Jensen sat next to him, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck.

“You’ve been great, Jared,” he said again. “No one’s ever been this nice to me, and to be honest, it’s sort of freaking me out.” He laughed, but Jared didn’t think it was very funny.

“That’s why you’re leaving?” Jared said.

Jensen shook his head. “I can’t do this to you, man,” he said. “You’re awesome, and you don’t wanna get mixed up with someone like me.”

“You don’t know what I want, and for the record, I think you’re pretty awesome, too,” Jared said.

“Yeah,” Jensen said. “Well you don’t really know me.” He didn’t say it to hurt. His voice was gentle, like he really didn’t want to let Jared down. But it hurt anyway.

“Maybe I want to know you,” Jared said.

“I’ve got a shit ton of baggage, man,” Jensen said.

“You think I don’t get that? I practically pulled you out of a dumpster,” Jared said. “But I’m willing to give this a shot.”

“This?” Jensen said.

Jared waved his hand between them. “Whatever this is,” he said.

“I don’t have any money,” Jensen said. “I’m going to keep eating your food and living in your house without paying rent until I find a job, and god knows how long that will take. You really want that?”

“If it means you’ll be here?” Jared said. “Yeah. I want that.”


	3. History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jared learns a little about Jensen's past.

Title is a quote from The History Boys.

 

"History is just one fucking thing after another…"

Jensen was more than a little amused by Jared’s reaction when he came home from work one day and Jensen presented him with a resume. Jensen had spent the entire day working on it, making it absolutely perfect, and he couldn’t decide if Jared was more surprised by the fact that Jensen knew how to use a computer (because until today Jensen had completely avoided the thing) or by the fact that Jensen actually had a work history. Jared had done his best to give Jensen privacy by not asking many questions, but Jensen knew that Jared was dying to know what was in Jensen’s past, and Jensen didn’t blame him; he was sleeping on the man’s couch for christ’s sake, but he also wasn’t ready to unload his entire history of craziness and fuck-ups on someone who actually seemed to like him and who, god help him, he actually liked back.

Because he did like Jared. And he knew Jared liked him. Jensen was filling out a little, and he saw the way Jared watched him when he thought Jensen wasn’t looking. And now that Jensen was feeling better and had regular meals and a warm place to sleep, his sex drive was coming back in full form, and it was starting to not be enough to jack off in the shower every morning when there was someone like Jared on the other side of the door. It was a bit like listening to the Backstreet Boys when you could be listening to the Beatles.

And Jensen was feeling better. Really better for the first time in who knows how long. Better in his mind and in his body. He’d felt like he’d lost a little time between losing his job and finding himself in Jared’s apartment, a feeling that was not unfamiliar to him. The depression tended to do that; each day just sort of melted away until Jensen found himself on the other side not exactly sure how he’d survived it and even less sure how he would survive the day ahead. He’d gone off his meds because he’d lost his insurance when he’d lost his job, then he’d gone off his rocker and went ahead and lost everything else he’d ever had to his name.

But now there was Jared. There was this small, comfy apartment; there was food; there was someone to talk to from time to time, and all of it combined kept him from sinking so far into his own head that he couldn’t find his way out again.

“Your resume,” Jared said. He looked a bit wide eyed, like he was trying to figure out if Jensen was playing some sort of joke.

“Looks like,” Jensen said. He hid his smile behind his serious face because he didn’t think Jared would like him being amused right now.

“Huh,” Jared said. “There’s a lot on here.” He scrunched up his forehead in Jensen’s direction.

“Yes, Jared,” Jensen said. “I’m twenty-eight, man. I have had a job or two in my time.”

“Of course,” Jared said. “It’s just…”

“When you found me, I was living like Oscar the Grouch?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Jared said. A grim smile flashed across his face then disappeared just as quickly. “Jensen,” he said, slowly, like he was picking his words from a pile of apples, making sure there were no bruises or worms. “You have a Masters degree,” he said finally.

“I’m aware,” Jensen said.

Jared sat on the couch, still looking at the paper in his hands. “How does something like this happen?” he said, his voice almost too quiet for Jensen to hear.

Jensen sat next to him. “Jay, man, this is a good thing. Can we not pick it apart?”

“Yeah, except what you really mean is ‘don’t ask me any questions, Jared.’” Jared sounded angry now, and Jensen tried to decide if he thought his anger was justified or not.

He ended up on the side of ‘justified.’ “It happens because you’re stupid,” Jensen said. “It happened because I was stupid and let it happen. It’s not that complicated.”

“I doubt that,” Jared said. “You’re a lot of things. Stupid ain’t one of them.”

Jensen nodded. “I’m bipolar. I went off my meds. It’s as simple as that. It would have never gotten so bad if I hadn’t stopped taking them.”

“But you’re…” Jared looked confused, and a little sad, and more than a little like he wanted to wrap Jensen in a hug and feed him steak followed by gummi bears and hot chocolate, and Jensen knew that probably all of that would happen when they were finished talking, and then Jared would probably be up all night Googling bipolar disorder.

Jensen sighed. “Ask whatever you wanna ask, man. I owe you at least that.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Jared said, automatic. It was practically his mantra.

Jensen just waited.

“But you’re not on any medicine now,” Jared said.

“And you saw the state I was in.”

“But you’re okay now,” Jared said. “Aren’t you?” He was studying Jensen’s face, and Jensen looked away because sometimes he couldn’t stand up to that look in Jared’s eyes, like Jensen actually meant something.

“I am,” Jensen agreed. “Mostly. I can’t explain it exactly. Not being on my own helps.”

“Good,” Jared said. “I don’t want you to be on your own. Not again.”

“Christ, Jay,” Jensen said. “Man, you don’t…you shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

“I might get used to it,” Jensen said.

Jared scooted closer and touched Jensen’s face, turned him until Jensen was looking at him. “You won’t be alone. Never again, you got me?”

Jensen nodded.

Jared was staring at Jensen’s lips, and Jensen knew then that Jared would kiss him. But when it happened, it wasn’t what he expected. Jared brushed his thumb across the scar on Jensen’s mouth, then leaned down and pressed his lips there. He was soft and warm, and he made Jensen’s breath catch in his throat. Jared pressed his forehead against Jensen’s cheek, and Jensen swore he could feel the brush of his eyelashes.

They sat like that for more time than Jensen could keep track of.


	4. The Right Candidate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jensen gets a job.

They fell into a routine, Jensen and Jared. Jared let Jensen have his truck during the day—though Jensen informed him that he was bat shit insane for letting someone who’d been homeless a month ago have what could technically serve as a moving home for someone like Jensen. Jared countered that Jensen was welcome to take the truck. It, being the piece of shit that it was, most likely wouldn’t last him very long anyway, and Jared could collect the insurance on it after he reported it stolen. Jensen wasn’t amused. He seemed constantly angered by Jared’s trust in him, and Jared wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Jensen drove Jared to work, then he spent the day looking for work himself (Though sometimes he spent the day sitting on the couch and staring at the carpet for hours on end until the fibers of it disappeared and all he saw was a great black hole with him sitting at the edge, way too goddamned close to falling. He didn’t tell Jared about those days.) To Jensen’s surprise, he’d even had a couple of interviews, and though he’d not heard back about them, it felt good to Jensen to be a part of the real world again, for even that small amount of time.

He liked being able to drive, blinking into the harsh winter sunlight through the windshield while Jared’s monster of a truck ate up the asphalt. He liked being dressed in the cheap suit Jared bought him for interviews, running the thin tie through his fingers and shrugging into the shoulders of the jacket that fit him just right. He felt goddamned human, and he couldn’t say when he’d stopped feeling like that in the first place, but he had, and now that dirty feeling of no home and no worth and no family was being peeled away. All that dirty skin peeled right down to the shiny new flesh beneath.

While Jensen did what he did during the day, Jared went to school and taught the color wheel and geometric shapes; he taught about drawing faces and perspective. Most of his students were horrible; the faces they drew tended to look more like some nightmare version of Quasimodo than the faces of their classmates, but they were sort of awesome, too. Jared thought one of his fifth graders might be a real artist some day. The kid drew Disney characters and Calvin and Hobbes comics, and they were pretty damn close to the real thing, and when Jared saw it, he realized he couldn’t wait to tell Jensen how proud he was, and he spent the rest of the day watching his classroom door wondering if today would be one of those days when Jensen came inside to collect him, even though he usually waited in the parking lot reading one of Jared’s books or listening to Jared’s music too loud.

Jensen was nervous around people who weren’t Jared. Jared had asked him about it once, but Jensen had just shrugged his shoulders and said he was shy, said not everyone could be a gregarious sasquatch like Jared. Jared had just laughed it off, but he thought there must be something deeper going on because the few times Jared had been able to coax Jensen out of the house with him—to the grocery store, to get ice cream, to get Jensen some clothes so he could stop burying himself in Jared’s sweatpants and t-shirts—he’d stuck close to Jared and kept his eyes mostly on the ground. So Jared was happy on those days when Jensen came into the school to get him, because it meant maybe Jensen was having a good day, and whatever it was that kept him from seeking out company, maybe it wasn’t so strong that day.

A little over two months after Jared found Jensen, Jensen showed up at Jared’s school in the middle of the day. He didn’t have a class with him at the time, and he was eating his lunch—a double-decker peanut butter and jelly sandwich with potato chips and a milk, even though Jensen had teased him mercilessly about having tastes even less mature than his students—when Jensen peeked through the window of his classroom door and grinned when Jared caught his eye. Jared waved him in.

It was a rainy day. Mid April and the month had taken its cliché to heart and Jared didn’t think he’d seen the sun in over a week. But with Jensen grinning at him like he was and shaking rain out of his hair, Jared thought maybe not seeing the sun didn’t matter all that much.

“Hey, Jay,” Jensen said. He’d taken to calling Jared that almost right away, and Jared loved it. He’d always been Jared or but never Jay, and the way Jensen said it, a drawl that made the word seem low and sexy, made his cock stand up and take notice.

They weren’t fucking, Jared and Jensen, though Jensen pursued it with a persistence that freaked Jared right the fuck out. He wanted Jensen. Christ, he wanted him. But he also didn’t know what exactly Jensen wanted and he didn’t want to be that person who made Jensen feel like he needed to pay for his room and board with sex. He wanted Jensen, but he couldn’t get over feeling like a sleaze for pursuing it. So they made out almost every night, going at it like teenagers, but in the end, Jared always went to his bed alone after making sure Jensen was all set up and comfortable on the couch, which, as Jensen complained loudly every morning, really was the piece of shit Jared had told him it was.

“Hey, yourself,” Jared said. He grinned at Jensen, a grin sticky with peanut butter and Wonder bread.

“You’re like a fucking kid,” Jensen said. “Can I kiss you here, or are the rug rats about to come in?” He sat on the corner of Jared’s desk and looked down at him, a soft, crooked grin at his lips.

“I’ve got another forty-five minutes before I have another class,” Jared said. “But you probably shouldn’t kiss me, anyway. It’s not professional.”

“Fuck professional,” Jensen said and laid a fat, wet kiss on Jared’s forehead. He laughed when he pulled away, his shoulders pulling up close to his ears, and he looked like a big gleeful kid.

Jared mock pouted and wiped the spit off his forehead, but he could still feel the warmth at the nape of his neck from where Jensen had grabbed him to pull him in.

“What’re you doing here, Jen?” Jared said. He handed him half of his sandwich, and Jensen dug in.

“I got a job,” he said, chewing around his sandwich.

“What?” Jared said. “Jen! That’s fucking awesome!” He pulled Jensen off of the desk and into a hug, and he held him closer and longer than was probably entirely appropriate given the setting.

When Jensen pulled away finally, his face was red, and he was rubbing the back of his neck and peeking at Jared through his eyelashes. But he couldn’t hide his grin. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Keep it down. I don’t wanna get your ass fired cause you’re shouting obscenities in a grade school.”

Jared laughed. “We’re gonna celebrate. I’mma take you out someplace real nice tonight, man. Get you a steak as big as your head.”

“There’s another way we can celebrate,” Jensen said. He raised an eyebrow.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re subtle?” Jared said.

Jensen’s grin just deepened.

Jared settled back into his chair and Jensen sat on the desk again. “So a job, huh?” Jared said. “Where?”

“Elsevier?” Jensen said. “I’ll be editing medical texts. Textbooks, pamphlets. That kinda thing.”

“That’s great,” Jared said.

“It’s nothing special,” Jensen said.

“Nu-uh, man. Not today, you hear me?” Jared said. “No selling yourself short.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jensen said with a grin. “Not today.”

***

Jensen spent the afternoon celebrating in small ways. He took Jared’s dogs for a walk down to Forest Park, following the paths winding through the green of it and stomping up the hills while trying to keep Jared’s monsters under control until Jensen and the dogs both were panting and sweating despite the coolness and the damp of the day. He stopped on Art Hill and watched people run sprints, up and down, up and down, then stopping with their hands on their hips, gasping in breaths and smiling at each other over what they’d accomplished. Jensen had used to run sprints up this hill himself when he was in high school and on the track team, and he wondered if, ten years and an on-again-off-again cigarette habit later, his lungs would still be able to take the strain. He thought maybe he wanted to give it a try. Maybe he’d start running in the mornings with Jared before work. Before work. Jesus.

Jensen tied the dogs down to one of the concrete railings on the fence that looked over the hill, took out a notebook and wrote a poem. It was a shitty poem, but it was the first thing he’d written since before he’d been homeless, so he was proud of it all the same. There was a time when he’d actually considered himself a poet, when it wasn’t so strange to see his name in lit magazines, and when he’d almost had a manuscript ready to publish. Now he was so far away from all of that, it hurt, like he’d been tied to that life by his gut, and all it had taken was one sharp cut to sever the tie and let him float off and away. But he thought maybe he was on his way back. Maybe Jared would help him get there.

Jared was true to his word and took Jensen out for steak that night at Ruth’s Chris, which made Jensen want to cry over how expensive the whole thing was about to be. But Jared told him not to worry about it. Years of living off macaroni and cheese and peanut butter, and he thought he could afford a splurge, especially now that Jensen had a job.

“So, about that,” Jensen said. “Clean split, right? Fifty-fifty on rent and utilities?”

“Maybe next month,” Jared said. “You should get a savings going, you know?”

“Jared,” Jensen said. “C’mon, man. You’ve had my back for two months. Soon as I get my first paycheck, you’re getting a chunk of it.”

Jared sighed as if he really didn’t want to talk about this. “You can buy the groceries. Put gas in the truck.”

“Jay—”

“Seriously, man,” Jared said. “With how much we eat? I think that’s fair. I just don’t want you to feel too much pressure right away. Get settled into your job. We can talk about it again then.”

“And by ‘get settled’ you mean ‘don’t get fired,’” Jensen said.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yeah,” Jensen said. “But you’ve seen my resume. You know I don’t have the best track record when it comes to keeping jobs.” Jensen looked down at the very bloody steak on his plate and no longer wanted it. He began to cut it into bites and shove them into his mouth until he had a lump of meat that he could hardly chew.

Jared grabbed his hand to stop him from taking another bite. “I didn’t say that,” he said. “And that’s not what I meant. You’re not alone, and I’m not gonna let you do something to get yourself fired. I just…” he cleared his throat, and his grip on Jensen loosened. “I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

Jensen nodded and swallowed his food. It hurt going down, all the way to his chest. “Okay,” he said.

Jared took his hand back and pushed his hair out of his face. He looked hurt, gave Jensen that look that reminded him of Harley begging to be let on the couch. “You don’t believe me,” he said.

“I just don’t understand why you’d do all this, Jay,” Jensen said. “No one should do all of this.”

“For you, you mean?” Jared said.

Jensen gave the tiniest of nods and refused to look Jared in the face.

“Hey,” Jared said. He reached one of his long legs under the table to one of Jensen’s, hooked his foot around Jensen’s ankle and drew their legs together. “In case you haven’t noticed?” he said. “I kinda like you.”

Jensen smiled grudgingly. He kicked Jared under the table. Jared jumped and laughed, then trapped Jensen’s foot between his own. People were looking at them from their very nicely set, white-tableclothed tables, and Jensen grinned wide and laughed with Jared.

“Yeah?” he said. “You just wait, Jay. We get home? I’mma show you just how much I like you, too.” He licked his lips to show Jared just what he meant.

Jared’s smile froze then melted from his face. He pulled his legs away. “I don’t want that,” he said, more to his plate than to Jensen.

Jensen’s entire face flushed. Slut, he thought. Of course he doesn’t want that.

He pushed back from the table and stood, made a beeline toward the front of the restaurant and out the door. He stood shivering in the cold in nothing but a thin cotton sweater from Target. It was charcoal grey and fit him perfectly across the chest and shoulders, and he knew he looked good in it, and he’d worn it for Jared. But Jared didn’t want…that.

One of the hostesses was outside smoking. Jensen asked if he could bum one, and she just shrugged and held her pack out. Jensen tapped one out, she lit it for him, and he took a deep drag. He coughed the smoke out. It had been too damn long since he’d had a cigarette.

“Jen?”

Jensen didn’t turn to look at Jared, who’d apparently followed him out of the restaurant.

“Sorry,” Jensen said. He pulled on his cigarette then blew smoke into the air, his warm breath against the cold air making the smoke fog even deeper.

Jared stood in front of Jensen and peered into his face. “Sorry for what? What happened in there?” He glanced sideways at the hostess, but she just stomped on her cigarette and disappeared inside.

“I obviously got things wrong,” Jensen said. He shrugged. “Won’t happen again.”

“What did you get wrong?” Jared asked, that lost puppy look on his face again.

Jensen took another pull of his cigarette, watching Jared watch him carefully. He blew the smoke out sideways then tossed the cigarette to the ground. “Nothing,” he said. “I guess I just thought we had something here. I guess I was wrong.”

“Jesus, Jen,” Jared muttered. “You’re freezing.” He moved toward Jensen, but Jensen stopped him.

“If you try to hug me right now, Jared, I swear to god I’ll punch you in the face.”

Jared froze.

“What the fuck was I supposed to think?” Jensen said. “You touching me all the goddamned time? Hugging me? Kissing me?”

“I didn’t want you to feel pressured,” Jared said. He was actually wringing his hands now.

“Pressured?” Jensen said.

“I like you, Jen,” Jared said. “I like you so much. You have no idea. But I don’t…I know you’re worried about paying your way. And you don’t have to. Not like that.”

Jensen let that sink in. “Jay,” he said. “You think I only wanna blow you because you said I didn’t have to pay rent?”

Jared nodded.

Jensen laughed. “Jesus,” he said. “In case you didn’t notice, Jay? I ‘kinda like you’, too.” He slid up close to Jared, tilted his head up to look at him. “I wanna blow you because I wanna know what your cock tastes like in my mouth. I wanna know how big it is. How heavy it is. I want to fucking gag myself on it trying to get it all down.”

Jared let out a shaky breath and leaned his forehead against Jensen’s.

“Would you like that, Jay?” Jensen whispered. “Would you like to use my mouth? Make it all slick and shiny? Feed me your come?”

“You might have to drive us home,” Jared said.

Jensen grinned.

***

At the apartment, Jared put the dogs in their crates, though they barked and whined and wiggled to keep it from happening. Jared looked apologetic and let them lick his fingers through the bars until Jensen pressed himself up against Jared’s back, ran his hands down Jared’s front. He pinched Jared’s nipple through his t-shirt, and Jared hissed and grabbed Jensen’s wrist. He turned to face Jensen, grabbed hold of him and walked him backwards until he hit the wall.

Jensen grunted then laughed. Jared just watched his mouth.

“Better be careful, Jay. Don’t wanna wake the neighbors.”

“Shut up,” Jared said.

Jensen did. He looked at Jared, grinning like a smug bastard, a challenge in his eyes. Jared gripped him by the nape of his neck, tried to grip his hair, and tilted Jensen until he was looking up at him. He was loose and pliant and warm in Jared’s hands.

Jared kissed his nose. Kissed one of his cheeks. When Jensen’s eyes fluttered shut, he kissed one of Jensen’s eyelids. By the time he made it to Jensen’s mouth, the grin was gone, and Jensen opened for him so easy, and Jared sucked at Jensen’s bottom lip before licking his way into Jensen’s mouth.

When Jared finally pulled away, Jensen was panting, his eyes still shut.

“Bedroom,” Jared said.

Jensen nodded, and when he turned to move toward the bedroom, Jared smacked his ass.

Jensen jumped and turned. “Fuck,” he said. “You’re a pushy bastard.” He grabbed Jared by his shirt and pulled him backwards until they practically tumbled into the bedroom. “Are you a top, Jay?” Jensen said. “Tell me you’re a top, baby. I want you inside me. I wanna feel you every time I sit down tomorrow.”

Jared pushed him onto the bed and got busy getting rid of his clothes. “Who knew you’d be a talker during sex?” he said.

Jensen’s eyes tracked Jared’s movements, devouring naked skin as it was revealed. “You don’t like it, you might have to gag me,” Jensen said.

“Maybe later. I got a use for that mouth.” Jared crawled on top of Jensen and pressed him into the bed. Jensen got a hold of Jared’s cock and palmed it against his belly, and Jared groaned, long and loud.

“Fuck, Jay,” Jensen moaned. “You’re huge.”

Jared pulled him into a kiss to quiet him, and rutted against Jensen’s thigh, the denim almost too much friction against his cock. Jensen dug his nails into Jared’s back, and Jared pulled away with a hiss. He grabbed Jensen’s wrists and held his hands above his head against the bed.

“Hold them there,” he said.

“Yeah,” Jensen said. His pupils were blown. He flexed his hands against Jared’s hold, but did as Jared said. He looked completely blissed out, and Jared hadn’t even done anything to him yet. “Wanna taste you,” Jensen said. “Please.”

“Yeah, baby,” Jared said.

He slid up until he was straddling Jensen’s chest, his cock bumping against Jensen’s lips and chin, smearing him with pre-come. Jensen licked his lips, the tip of his tongue just brushing Jared’s head, then he opened wide for Jared, a pink, sweet ‘O’ that made something dip in Jared’s chest. He slid into Jensen’s mouth, held Jensen’s head loosely while he made slow thrusts, let Jensen suck and drool and gag himself until Jared couldn’t take it any more and pulled out, stroked his cock until he was coming on Jensen’s face. When he could catch his breath, he dragged his fingers through the mess, Jensen’s eyes open and watchful, staring up at Jared as he licked Jared’s fingers clean.

Jared backed off of Jensen a bit, slid Jensen’s sweater up until it was tangled around his arms above his head where Jensen had kept them the whole time. “Good boy,” Jared said. “You can move these now.”

Jensen did, pulling his sweater all the way off before brushing his hand through Jared’s hair. Jared kissed the inside of his wrist, then grabbed his hand and licked a warm, wet stripe up his palm. He spread Jensen’s legs wide, then sat between them on his knees. He unbuttoned Jensen’s jeans slowly and tugged them down only enough to reveal Jensen’s cock, flushed and red and hard, with one pearl of precome clinging to the tip. He licked the palm of Jensen’s hand again, then placed it on Jensen’s own cock.

“Come for me, baby,” he said. “Can you do that? Wanna see how you touch yourself.”

Jensen just nodded, licked his lips, his tongue dancing out to touch his scar for a fraction of a second, and started stroking himself, slowly. His fist bumped against Jared’s stomach and his still in the way jeans, and he made a frustrated little noise in the back of his throat when he wasn’t getting what he wanted, and Jared moved back and wrapped his hand around Jensen’s on Jensen’s cock, squeezing just this side of too hard, helping Jensen along until he was coming all over their hands and his jeans and Jared’s stomach.

Jared collapsed next to him, and they just lay together for a minute. When Jensen caught his breath, he kicked his jeans all the way off and turned to smile at Jared.

“Damn,” he said.

“No shit,” Jared said. He brushed a thumb across Jensen’s eyebrow where Jared’s come was drying. “Hang on a sec.”

He got up and returned with a warm, wet cloth and a bottle of water. He cleaned Jensen’s face, and while Jensen chugged the water, he cleaned his own stomach, then flopped to the bed again.

“Can I hug you now?” Jared said.

Jensen raised an eyebrow.

“You said I couldn’t hug you earlier. Outside the restaurant.”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “I could do with a hug,” he said.

Jared moved in, positioned Jensen until his back was pressed to Jared’s front. He reached down and pulled the tangled, messy covers over both of them.

“I agreed to a hug, not cuddling,” Jensen said.

Jared pressed his face into the crown of Jensen’s hair. “It’s cuddle or couch. Your choice.”

Jensen squirmed a bit before deciding to give up and use Jared’s arm as a pillow.

They were quiet for a long time. Just when Jensen was on the brink of sleep, Jared said his name.

“Jen?”

“Yeah, Jay?”

“I’m glad you’re here, you know?” Jared said.

Jensen pressed his face to the crook of Jared’s elbow. “You’re sentimental after sex, aren’t you. Is that what this is?”

Jared smiled against his skin, scraped his teeth against him.

“No,” Jared said. “It’s just…things are good now. Better than they were before.”

“Yeah,” Jensen agreed. It was really no contest.

One of the dogs barked into the quiet apartment, loud enough that both Jared and Jensen jumped.

Jared groaned. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said. “I’m coming back.”

Jensen turned onto his back to watch Jared pull jeans and a sweater on. “Need help?” he said.

“No,” Jared said. “But you should come with me anyway.”

Jensen did.


	5. Manageable Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen has a bad day, and Jared gets his first taste of what Jensen’s condition could mean. They talk about it. Seriously, there’s a lot of talking here.

Jared and Jensen lay in bed. It was early May and a Sunday morning, and they had the bedroom window open, the sunlight spilling into the room and across the bed, and the sounds of the city—a siren wailing, kids playing basketball on the court next to the apartment, church bells clanging their welcome—drifted in with the light. Jared was still asleep, sprawled on his back in that un-self-conscious way he had, one arm hanging off the bed, the other resting against Jensen, who was laying on his side and holding Jared’s big, loosely curled hand against his chest. He closed his eyes when he felt the breeze from the window against his back. He felt listless and sad, and he hated himself for it. Because when he looked at this man next to him, he knew he had no reason to feel that way.

Jared would wake soon. He’d take the dogs for their run. He’d spend longer with them today than he normally did because he didn’t have work, and it was a pretty day besides. He’d want Jensen to come with him, but already Jensen felt the enormity of that, felt how that would be impossible for him today, no matter the puppy eyes Jared turned on him.

Jensen watched as Jared blinked his eyes open, going from asleep to awake in a second, just like that, like he’d never been sleeping at all. He stretched, the hand Jensen was holding tightening in his grip, then he turned to smile at Jensen.

“Hey,” he said, his voice rough, languid with sleep. “Lucky I like you so much, otherwise if might be creepy you watching me sleep.”

Jensen wanted to say something about fair being fair, given how often Jared stared at him while sketching, but the quip never quite made it out. “Hey,” he said instead.

Jared’s brows drew together, not quite a frown, but close enough to one that Jensen wanted to reach up and smooth the wrinkle out with his thumb.

“You’ve got your sad face on,” Jared said.

Jensen shrugged a little, watched Jared’s face. He felt Jared spread his fingers against Jensen’s chest.

“Wanna talk?” Jared said. He turned onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow.

“No,” Jensen said.

Jared frowned fully this time.

“I’m okay, Jay,” Jensen said. “Just…”

“Just?” Jared prompted.

“This has been coming for a while, you know. Things were too good to be true. I knew it.”

“Jen,” Jared said. He sat up now, cross-legged with the top sheet tangled around them.

Jensen just shifted to his back and closed his eyes.

“Jensen, seriously,” Jared said. “You’re freaking me out. What’s going on?”

“I called in sick to work Friday. Did I tell you that?” Jensen said.

“You don’t feel good?” Jared said. He put his hand on Jensen’s forehead, which almost made Jensen smile.

Jensen grabbed Jared’s hand and pulled it down to his mouth. He kissed the palm of Jared’s hand, then nuzzled his cheek against it. “Can you maybe stay here?” he said. “Maybe not walk the dogs?”

“Jen?”

Jensen tugged at Jared until he was lying down again, right up close to Jensen. He pressed his face into Jared’s shoulder. He felt Jared’s fingers in his hair. He let that lull him to sleep.

***

He woke too hot and uncomfortable and tangled in the sheets. Jared wasn’t there anymore, and when he looked at the clock, he saw it was almost two in the afternoon. The sun had risen high enough now that it filled the entire room with a harsh light that made the inside of Jensen’s eyelids blood red when he closed them, and he wanted to close them and never open them again.

He pulled himself out of the bed, found a pair of underwear and a pair of Jared’s sweatpants then went to find Jared, who was nowhere, though the dogs were there, lazing in a patch of sun in the living room. Harley wagged his tail and it thump thumped against the wood floor.

Jensen walked into the kitchen. He wasn’t hungry, but he thought he could do with bringing a mug of coffee back to bed with him. The coffee was cold, obviously made that morning, and Jensen poured it into the mug Jared must have used and gulped it without bothering to warm it up. He set the mug down, leaned against the counter, and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until everything was red.

Jared found him that way an indeterminable amount of time later. There was a concern in Jared’s face as he pulled Jensen’s hands away from his eyes, and Jared blinked at him to clear the spots in his vision.

“I was calling you,” Jared said.

“I’m right here, Jay,” Jensen said.

“This is…I looked this up,” Jared said. “When you first told me you’re bipolar. This is depression.”

“This is depression,” Jensen agreed.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

Jensen noticed Jared had a greasy Jack in the Box bag in his hands. He was gripping it tightly enough he was probably smashing the food.

“It kind of creeps up on me sometimes,” Jensen said.

Jared set the bag of food down. He was nodding his head like he was agreeing, but Jensen recognized it as Jared trying to let things sink in.

“Was Friday the first time you called in sick to work?” Jared said.

Jensen rubbed a hand across his eyes. “No,” he said finally.

Jared nodded. “Are you close to being fired?”

“No,” Jensen said, more emphatically this time. “No, Jay. I won’t do that to you, okay, man? I won’t. It hasn’t gotten that bad. I won’t let it get that bad.”

“But you didn’t say anything to me,” Jared said.

“Jay—”

“So what now?” Jared said. “Medicine?”

Jensen sighed.

“I need to know what to do here, man,” Jared said.

Jensen shrugged. “Yeah. Medicine, I guess,” he said. “It’s always worked before. And I don’t feel as down as I have in the past.”

“You’ll do that? Take the meds, I mean?” Jared said. “You don’t have a problem with it?”

“This isn’t the movies, Jay.” Jensen tried a smile. “I’ll take the medicine. I only ever stopped because I didn’t have the money. And I stopped cold, you know? You’re not supposed to do that. It’s…well, it’s not a good thing to do.”

“Can we sit?” Jared said. He was already pulling out a kitchen chair and dropping into it.

Jensen sat beside him. “You okay?” he said.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Jared said.

Jensen didn’t say anything for a while. He twisted his mouth into a grimace. He didn’t want to say this. “Jay?”

“Yeah,” Jared said.

“I’m not even that bad right now, you know?” Jensen said. “This is a manageable day. I need to know now if you’re not gonna be able to handle this so I can get out of your hair.”

“Fuck that,” Jared said. “That’s not even a question, you got me?”

Jensen was a little taken aback. He cleared his throat and swallowed. “Yeah, Jay. Okay.”

“Is that how it got so bad?” Jared said, angry now, though Jensen didn’t think the anger was directed at him, exactly. “Huh? People couldn’t handle it, so they just left you to deal on your own.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Jensen said.

“Explain it,” Jared said.

Jensen watched Jared carefully. They were dancing into territory they usually stayed clear of. Jensen kept his past to himself, and he knew Jared thought the reason for that was some kind of trauma, so he didn’t push. But really, there wasn’t a trauma, at least not one Jensen could pin down and say this…this is where things went wrong. But it was embarrassing. Jensen thought about it almost every day, turned over the series of events that had led to living on the streets, digging in a dumpster for food, and selling his mouth for any amount of cash he could get. He knew that it was his fault, that he could have done better. And he didn’t want Jared to know.

“I’m serious, Jensen,” Jared said. “No more bullshit. I get there are things you don’t want to talk about, but I need to know how bad it can get, and I think that means I need to know what happened.”

Jensen nodded. He pulled the bag of food to him, and Jared just watched. He unwrapped a greasy burger, took a bite, and thought he might vomit. He pushed the food away from him.

“Jensen, please.”

“I know,” Jensen said. “I’m…I don’t know where to start. Christ,” he said. “I feel like I’m back in therapy.”

Jared looked hurt by that, and Jensen felt sorry.

“I don’t mean it like that,” he said. He bumped Jared’s shoe with his bare foot. “This stuff is just hard for me.”

Jared nodded once. “Couch,” he said.

“What?”

“Go sit on the couch,” Jared said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Jared practically shoved him into the living room then disappeared. He came back a minute later and threw himself on the couch next to Jensen.

“See?” he said. He held up bags of candy. “I got myself sour gummy worms, but you get dark chocolate with sea salt. It’s amazing how much your preferred candy matches your personality.”

Jensen couldn’t help but laugh, and he took the bag of candy Jared set in his lap. He popped a shard of the chocolate into his mouth, and let it melt, bitter with a hint of salt, and smiled at the taste of it.

“Good, right?” Jared said.

“It’s good,” Jensen said.

“Now talk,” Jared said. “And no judging. I’m not judging you. You’re not judging you. And you’re totally not judging me for the dumb questions I’ll inevitably ask.”

“Fair enough.” Jensen reached up at tugged Jared’s hair. Jared made a face but obediently leaned in to kiss him.

“You’re not distracting me that way,” he said against Jensen’s mouth.

“I know,” Jensen said. He sat back, but pulled Jared’s hand with him.

“My parents are from Texas, like yours,” Jensen started. Jared just made a surprised noise, but didn’t interrupt. “They’re way conservative, though. They’re probably Tea Party members by now, for all I know.”

“You don’t talk to them?”

Jensen shook his head.

“I was diagnosed bipolar when I was young. I’ve dealt with this for a long time. They didn’t really understand it. It was weird, you know? I was a straight ‘A’ student. I played football. Was popular. But I was the black sheep. Being bipolar, it’s not even a big deal. It’s manageable. But it was like they couldn’t get over it. Like I had some kind of taint. I got into a lot of really good colleges, but they wanted me to go to community college for a couple of years so I could adjust.”

“But you came here,” Jared said. “Went to Wash U?”

“Yeah, well.” Jensen smiled again, and it felt false. “When they found out I’m gay, they were all too happy to let me leave.”

“Oh,” Jared said.

“Yeah,” Jensen said.

“But I did it, you know?” Jensen said. “I paid my own way. Got scholarships, financial aid. I did what I had to do. And I never looked back.”

“That’s cause you’re awesome,” Jared said.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, man,” Jensen said.

“Whatever,” Jared said. “I’ll flatter you all I want. Now keep talking.”

“It’s always been tough. I get overwhelmed easily. I miss classes when things are bad, and when my mood swings the other way I get distracted, do too much, can’t sleep…But I could always afford my meds and counseling because the school had a health center. Then I went straight to grad school and it was the same. An MFA in fucking poetry…like that does anyone any good.” Jensen felt himself blush, and he rubbed his free hand across the back of his neck, but Jared said nothing.

“I got a job straight out of school,” Jensen went on. “And things were really good until I lost it.”

“And no one did anything to help? None of your friends noticed what was going on?”

“My friends—Chris and Steve—they would have helped. They’d always been there for me. But they have a band, and they were on their first tour. And at first I just didn’t want to bother them, but then when it got bad, when I couldn’t pay the rent and I just didn’t give a shit, I knew I needed help, but I couldn’t get in touch with them.”

“They’re probably looking for you,” Jared said.

“If they’re back, yeah,” Jensen said. “I, uh, I don’t honestly know how long I was on the streets.”

“Was there nothing else you could have done? A clinic? Something?”

Jensen felt immediately defensive, but he took a deep breath. “I wasn’t in my right mind, man. I wish it had been that easy. I did try. I went to the ER before I lost my apartment. I thought maybe I could get a prescription, and maybe if I could get some kind of a note, my landlord might back off a bit.” Jensen passed a shaky hand across his face. “They tried to hospitalize me, though, man. And I freaked out and left.”

Jared nodded. “Maybe it would have been better,” he said.

“No,” Jensen said. “No, man, you don’t know what those places are like. It’s not like some cushy day spa. Those state run places are fucked.”

“Okay,” Jared said.

“You said no judging,” Jensen said.

“Hey,” Jared said. He scooted forward and touched Jensen’s face. “I’m not. I’m just trying to understand.”

Jensen nodded into Jared’s hand, though his whole body felt tense still.

“C’mon, man,” Jared said. “Calm down for me.”

Jensen closed his eyes and breathed. Jared’s fingers felt sugary against his face, and he could smell the sour candy and Jared’s dogs.

“I’m okay,” he said finally.

“That’s why no hospitals, huh?” Jared said.

“Yeah,” Jensen said. “I can’t be in one of those places.”

“You’re talking from experience,” Jared said.

Jensen shook his head, but it wasn’t a denial. “When I was first diagnosed. It was pretty bad. I took a bunch of pills, tried to off myself.”

Jensen flicked his eyes to Jared to see his reaction. Jared’s eyes were all big and puppy-like again, and Jensen couldn’t help but laugh a little, though nothing was funny. He rolled his eyes and pulled Jared to him until Jared was lying against his chest. “It’s all right, sasquatch.”

“No it isn’t,” Jared said. “You can’t do that, okay?”

“I won’t.”

“You can’t,” Jared said. He rested his chin on Jensen’s chest and pulled Jensen down until their lips met. “You gotta stick around.”

“Yeah,” Jensen said.

“And you gotta tell me when it’s bad. I gotta know.”

Jensen nodded.

Jared ran his thumb across Jensen’s scar. He had some fascination with it that Jensen couldn’t fathom. He waited for Jared to ask. Because Jared always did.

“Where’d you get this?” Jared said.

“You’re so predictable,” Jensen said.

“And so are you. Why won’t you tell me?”

Jensen flicked his tongue out to lick the pad of Jared’s thumb. Jared pressed his thumb into Jensen’s mouth and let Jensen suck, and Jensen watched as Jared’s pupils dilated, as he grew aroused.

Jared pulled his thumb away after a moment. “Uh-uh,” he whispered. “No distractions.”

Jensen smiled, rubbed his thigh against Jared’s erection. He was way too easy, and Jensen was finished talking about this.

“Asshole,” Jared murmured. “How’m I supposed to resist that?”

“You aren’t,” Jensen said.

Jared looked at Jensen closely, his entire body stilling. “You sure you’re up for this?”

Jensen raised an eyebrow.

“Poor choice of words,” Jared said, grinning.

“Yeah, baby,” Jensen said. “I’m up for it.”

Jared pulled back and flipped Jensen, pulled him onto his hands and knees.

“Fuck,” Jensen muttered into the arm of the couch. “That will never not be hot. Never had anyone who could handle me the way you can.”

Jared pulled Jensen’s sweatpants down around his knees, raked his nails against the smooth skin he revealed, then soothed the pain with his tongue.

“Gonna make you feel good,” he said.

Jensen felt Jared’s tongue in his crevice. He licked a hot wet stripe across Jensen’s hole, then mouthed at it, fucking his tongue in until Jensen was slick and open, then Jared added fingers, one, two , three, until Jensen was begging and incoherent and pushing back against him.

Jared pulled away and Jensen whined.

“Settle down, baby,” Jared said.

Jensen heard Jared’s zipper.

“Don’t need lube, Jay,” he mumbled.

Jared gripped him by the hips and tugged him until he was half on the couch, half off, kneeling with his ass presented.

“If that’s not the fucking prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Jared said.

“Cock,” Jensen said, “now.”

Jared pushed in, three burning thrusts that had Jensen panting and keening and pulling at the couch cushions. All it took was Jared’s hand on his cock and he was coming. When he got through the aftershocks, he did his best to push back into Jared, to squeeze himself around Jared’s cock, and Jared came with a grunt and collapsed on top of Jensen. He pulled out, and Jensen felt the slow drip of come, and the slickness of his hole. It was something he found almost unbearably sexy, to know Jared had used him in that way, and he felt his cock twitch again.

Jared pulled Jensen down onto the floor with him, and pulled down a couch cushion so they could rest against something comfortable. Jensen draped himself over Jared and tongued Jared’s nipples until he squirmed.

“I don’t deserve you, you know that, man?” Jensen said.

“See, that’s the stupidest thing you’ve said all day,” Jared said.

Jensen rolled his eyes.

***

Jensen let Jared take care of making the appointment. He’d planned to do it himself, but after he’d looked up his options and written down numbers, he’d spent two days staring at the phone, both at work and at home, like it would turn on him if he tried to touch it. He felt better anyway, after talking to Jared, so maybe he didn’t need it.

But in the end, he asked Jared anyway, no matter how much better he felt. Mostly because he didn’t want to let Jared down. But he sort of didn’t want to let himself down either. It was the first time he’d cared about something like that in a long time.


	6. Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared is apparently a sleepwalker, and Jensen is giddy about the word “boyfriend.” They spend a summer day together.

Jensen blinked his eyes open, waking all at once. The bedroom was blue with moonlight. Jared had tripped the week before and used their curtains to catch himself, but he wound up tangling his long arms in the fabric and pulling the whole mess to the floor with him. Jensen had laughed so hard he’d snorted, but it looked like maybe Jared was going to get the last laugh because, when Jensen opened his eyes, he realized immediately that Jared was standing on the mattress beside him, all six foot four of him towering above Jensen, his body a lanky shadow in the moonlight. He was hunched against the ceiling, he stood so tall.

Jensen wanted to be surprised, but he wasn’t. After months of living with the man, sleeping next to him, learning the ins and outs of his sleep-hushed breaths and snores, Jensen had learned not to be surprised if Jared woke him in the night. Because Jared was a sleepwalker.

Jensen patted Jared on the foot. “Okay, Sasquatch,” he mumbled. “You can lay down now.”

“No, man, I can’t,” Jared said. “There are ninjas.”

“Ninjas, huh?” Jensen said.

He’d seen Jared do this four times now, but it never failed to creep him out how incredibly lucid Jared sounded when Jensen knew, if he turned on the lights and looked Jared in the eyes, he would see absolutely nothing there. No consciousness, no recognition. Jensen wasn’t afraid of his boyfriend in these moments (His boyfriend. Christ. Jensen might as well start doodling hearts all over his notebook.), but he did prefer to have him awake and smiling and looking at Jensen with that look that said Jared felt just as fucked up sloppy happy in love as Jensen felt himself.

“Jen,” Jared said. “You gotta…you gotta kill’em, man.”

“Yeah, Jay,” Jensen said. He ran a hand across his face. “All right.”

Jensen slid slowly from the bed. He’d heard you weren’t supposed to wake sleepwalkers, and he had no idea how true that was, but he thought he’d play it safe, maybe prod Jared to look it up for him in the morning.

Priority number one, though, was to get Jay off the bed before he fell and broke more than their curtain rod. Jensen had to psych himself up to do it.

“Young man!” Jensen said in his best commanding voice, the only thing he’d found that had worked to get Jared to listen when he was like this. “You get down from there right this minute.”

“But why?” Jared said, his voice replaced by the voice of a whiney eight-year-old.

Jensen covered his mouth to hide a grin that Jared couldn’t see anyway.

“Because I said so,” Jensen said.

“No monkeys jumping on the bed?”

“That’s right,” Jensen said.

What happened next, Jensen could only describe as a controlled fall. Jared curled his body then dropped, fell to his ass on the bed and bounced.

“Ow,” he whined.

“Okay,” Jensen said. “Back to sleep, man.”

When Jared seemed to settle, Jensen slid back onto the bed. He didn’t pull the covers over himself, though; he just curled around a now sleeping Jared and let his boyfriend’s body heat keep him warm.

***

Jensen took his meds the next morning—two calm blue little tablets he didn’t even need to swallow with water—and watched Jared brush his teeth. Jared caught his eyes in the bathroom mirror and smiled, his mouth full of foamy toothpaste. Jensen swiped some of it off Jared’s lip with his thumb then rinsed the thumb clean in the running water.

Jared spit. Rinsed his mouth out. “What’re you looking at?” he said, his dimples tucking into his cheeks.

“My boyfriend,” Jensen said. He leaned against the bathroom doorframe and let his eyes caress Jay’s body—the slim hips tan against his white briefs, his broad shoulders, the hair curling against his neck. He’d not shaved in a day or two because he was finally on summer break and Jensen walked into his space and rubbed his cheek against his man’s stubble. “Fuck, Jay. You make me so goddamned happy.”

“Yeah?” Jay whispered.

He sounded a little confused, and Jensen knew he was being weird and sentimental this morning, but he didn’t really care.

Jared pulled back just enough to look at Jensen. “What do you wanna do today?” he said. “You got plans? It’s Sunday, you know.” He smirked. ‘Sunday’ was code for ‘I wanna fuck you all day so sloppy we’ll need a new mattress when I’m through.’

“I wanna get outta the house,” Jensen said. “It awesome outside.”

Jared smiled even wider. He grabbed Jensen by the arm, turned him and smacked his ass. “Get showered then, cowboy. I got plans for you.”

***

Jared flat out refused to tell him where they were going, but as they got increasingly further into Downtown St. Louis, Jensen began to get suspicious. Downtown was for three things: sports, clubbing, and tourism. And Jensen knew that at ten in the morning, they weren’t going to a Cards game and, even if it wasn’t too early, Jared knew better than to take Jensen to a club (the crush of people, the bang of the music, Jensen’s lungs too, too tight in his chest…).

As they drove, Jensen watched the St. Louis Arch loom larger and larger, huge and elegant and ugly against the blue May sky, and he looked at Jared out of the corner of his eye and laughed.

“You’re taking me to the Arch, aren’t you?” Jensen said.

“Maybe,” Jared said.

Jensen laughed again, leaned his head back into the seat and cackled. “Boy, you sure know how to treat a man right.”

“It’ll be fun,” Jared said.

“You do know I’m not one of your students, right?” Jensen said.

“I’ve never been before,” Jared said. “Whenever I bring it up, people think I’m joking.” He looked at Jensen, a grin that was a little devious and a lot puppy begging for ear scratchings.

“You think you’re big ass is gonna fit in one of those little carts?” Jensen said, but he’d already given in. He didn’t care what Jay wanted to do, he was just happy to be there with him while it happened.

“Shut up,” Jared said. He flicked Jensen off as he pulled into a parking spot.

Neither Jared or Jensen had been prepared for the crowd of people, though. They should have known—it was the first weekend at the end of the school year, after all—but they hadn’t. Jensen took one look at the line—the winding snake of parents’ holding kids’ hands and teenagers in halter tops and too short shorts just happy to be doing something that didn’t involve their parents—and almost backed out. He gripped Jared’s hand and Jared gripped back, but it felt like a bear claw grip, and Jensen was the stuffed animal, destined to slip out of its claws and fall back into the mass of other more brightly colored toys.

“Hey,” Jared said, his mouth at Jensen’s ear and Jensen hadn’t even felt him get close. “We don’t have to do this.”

Jensen shook his head, found his voice. “I’ll be all right,” he said, gruff. “I want you to have this.”

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Jensen said, and his voice was too loud, and the people nearest to them looked at them warily, two big men talking too loud in a family place. “It is a big deal,” Jensen said again, quieter. “I wanna do this for you.”

Jared nodded. “Say the word, and we’re gone.”

It wasn’t so bad. Jensen pressed right up into Jared’s space, and though that got them a few looks for other reasons, it also got Jensen through an hour of waiting for something that every minute seemed impossibly further away. And Jared bought them cotton candy and distracted Jensen by getting sticky blue sugar all over his fingers and mouth until Jensen was thinking only of licking the mess off of his face and licking into that mouth until it was just him and Jay Jay Jay and nothing else in the wide world could get to him.

It was all worth it for the look on Jared’s face once it was actually their turn. The attendant took one look at Jared and Jensen’s size and gave them their own cart. It was a strange, enclosed little thing with rough, carpet covered seats, and it rocked back and forth as it lurched them upwards and into the air. Jared grinned and tucked his hair behind his ears and held Jensen’s hand in his lap and tapped his foot and generally acted like a big spaz until they came to a stop. He led Jensen into the sunny area where they could look out the windows from the top of the structure and see the city all around them. If Jensen closed his eyes, he could feel them sway with the wind.

When their feet touched ground again, they bought burgers and fries and ate them on paper spread out over their laps while they sat and stared at the river. It was a little cool with the breeze blowing off the water, and when he finished his food, Jared pulled Jensen in close to him and Jensen let him. He hooked his foot around Jared’s and they sat all twined up like that until Jensen felt sleepy and happy. He wished they could be cast in bronze and mounted, happy for all of fucking ever.

“It’s a good day,” he told Jared.

“Yeah,” Jared said.

When they got home, they fucked on their couch. Jensen wanted to give Jared something, so Jared let Jensen rim him until his toes curled and Jensen’s jaw ached and then Jensen opened him up with his thumbs, tugging at Jared’s hole and making room before slicking himself up and pushing in. Jared pressed his heels to the curve of Jensen’s ass and urged him forward. And Jensen came while their tongues were tangled together, inside of Jared in all the ways possible. He felt a desperate crush of love for this man in that moment, and it was almost overwhelming. He pressed his face against the crook of Jared’s neck and breathed him in.

They slept, Jensen pillowed on top of Jared, until the sun was just sinking and making a purple and pink watercolor of the sky above the peaked stone roofs of the apartment buildings in their neighborhood.

“I want Mexican,” Jared said after they’d dressed.

“Mexican food isn’t as good here as it is in Texas,” Jensen said.

“No shit,” Jay said. “But I want it anyway.”

“Wanna cook?” Jensen said.

They went grocery shopping together, which is something Jensen found that he actually liked doing since moving in with Jared. Jared was a human garbage disposal, and Jensen found a twisted pleasure in suggesting food items that he knew Jared would never turn down and watching Jared bounce around the store like a puppy with a brand new squeaky toy.

They were in the Mexican and Asian aisle, and Jared was describing, in detail, the nachos he was planning to make (“…steak and black beans and pintos and jalapeños and some of that queso that crumbles and melts real good…”) when Jensen heard his name. He turned on instinct and saw Chris—best friend of years and ex-bandmate and roommate who’d gone on tour before Jensen disappeared into himself and onto the streets and whom Jensen hadn’t seen since.

“Chris,” Jensen said.

“Huh?” Jared said.

Jensen’s first instinct was to go to his friend and hug him, but he watched as Chris’s expression turned from confused to hurt to five shots of tequila and one bar fight murderous, and decided that standing in the middle of the grocery store and gripping a jar of Frank’s Red Hot awkwardly while Jared looked back and forth between the two of them was obviously the much better option.

“You grew your hair out,” he said finally.

Chris shifted, looked at Jared then back to Jensen. “Yeah,” Chris said.

“Looks good.”

“What the fuck, Jen?” Chris said.

His shoulders slumped and he walked right up to Jensen and grabbed him by the chin and examined him. Jensen didn’t know what the hell he was looking for, but he let him do it anyway. When Chris was satisfied, he pulled Jensen into a hug.

“Damn, boy,” he said. “I don’t know whether to kiss you or kill you.”

“Get off of him. Right the fuck now,” Jared said.

Jensen pulled back, immediately tense and ready to apologize. He’d never heard Jared sound like that, calm and angry all at once in a way that made Jensen’s hair stand on end. But he wasn’t looking at Jensen; he was looking at Chris.

“Who the fuck are you?” Chris said.

“Hey,” Jensen said, stepping between them. “Everybody just calm down. Jared, this is Chris. I’ve told you about him. Chris, this is Jay. Jared.” Jensen rubbed the back of his neck and ducked his head a little. “My boyfriend,” he mumbled.

“Your boyfriend,” Chris said. His voice held no inflection at all.

“So you’re the asshole who just left him,” Jared said. “Just left him to the fucking streets.”

“Jared,” Jensen said. He pressed his hand to Jared’s chest. “Shut the fuck up. Right now.”

“What’s he talking about?” Chris said. The look on his face was wary, like he knew exactly what Jared was talking about, like he was bracing himself for what was coming even though he didn’t want to hear it.

“This isn’t the place for this,” Jensen said.

“We’ve been looking for you for a year now,” Chris said. “Landlord said you just stopped paying rent. He put all the furniture on the lawn and you never came to get it. Never came back.”

“I know,” Jensen said. Jared was pressing a hand to the small of his back.

“Me and Steve…man, we put missing signs up all over the goddamned place. We thought maybe you went to Texas even, so we called your mom—”

“My mom?” Jensen said, and he knew his voice sounded too sharp but he couldn’t control it. He felt his blood pumping, heard the pulse of it from deep inside.

“Yeah,” Chris said. “She’s looking for you, too. She’s worried sick.” Chris looked angry again, a storm cloud eclipsing a mostly clear sky. “And all this time, you’ve just been shacked up with the Jolly Green fucking Giant over here.”

Jared threw a punch before Jensen could stop him. Chris staggered back.

“You don’t have the first clue what you’re talking about,” Jared said.

Jensen’s entire world went silent. He covered his face with his hands and screamed. He clenched his fists and he screamed into his closed hands until He felt Jared gripping him by the wrists and heard his voice filter into the silence.

“Hey, man,” Jared was saying. “Hey, Jen. Jensen. Don’t worry. It’s okay.” His voice was low and soothing and very, very worried.

When the security guard showed up, Jared and Chris both said, “We’re leaving,” and held their hands up and walked toward the front of the door and outside before they were arrested. Jared tugged Jensen along.

Once outside, Jensen pulled away. Jared protested, but Jensen shook his head at him.

“You can’t,” he said, “you can’t touch me right now, okay? Jay? Just, please. Give me a minute.”

Jared nodded. He was literally wringing his hands, and Jensen thought for a moment about how he’d never seen anyone do that in real life.

After Jensen got his breathing under control, he let himself sink until he was sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk.

“So. This is fun, huh?” he said.

Jared sat on the ground in front of him and ran one of those big paws of his through Jensen’s hair. “You okay?” he murmured.

Jensen nodded.

Chris cleared his throat from above them. “Maybe we could go somewhere and talk?”

“Yeah,” Jensen said. “I think we’d better.”

***

They went to a diner Jensen and Jared liked to eat at sometimes right after they’d just been paid and had a little money to do things like buy greasy diner food. It was mostly a drunk tank and only got busy late at night and around mid-day, so they knew it would be quiet.

Jensen tucked himself into Jared’s side in the booth, not at all ashamed to look so fucking vulnerable and small when it was just Chris—Chris who knew everything about him, if Jensen didn’t count the fact that he’d apparently been missing for a whole year.

“You don’t get to judge me,” Jensen started. “You disappeared, too. You went on tour, and for six months, man—six months—I didn’t get anything from you but four fucking voicemails.”

“Stop it,” Chris said. He looked nervously. “Please. I’m begging you here, man. Just tell me what happened. I’m sure I have shit to atone for, but I gotta know. I thought…man, I thought you were dead. I called morgues looking for you.”

Jensen swallowed. He stared at the flecked Formica table top. Dug one of his thumbs into Jared’s thigh. “I lost my job,” he said. “Couldn’t pay for my meds.” He sighed. “You know how I get.”

Chris nodded. “The apartment?” he said.

“Couldn’t pay the rent, either.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t know,” Jensen said. And it was the truth. He had no clue why he didn’t just pick up the phone, so he said what he always said, the only excuse he ever had. “I’m fucked in the head.”

“Yeah, well,” Chris said. “Being bi-polar only accounts for part of that, and you fucking know it. You didn’t call me because you didn’t fucking want to help yourself.”

“Wait a fucking minute,” Jared said.

“He’s not wrong, Jay,” Jensen said. “I’m goddamned self-destructive. Chris knows it as well as I do. But I just…I just didn’t want to bother you. It was your first big tour. But I did try, man. I even went to the hospital to get help, and you know how I feel about hospitals.”

“Yeah,” Chris said. “Please tell me you’ve been with him the whole time.” He waved a hand in Jared’s direction.

Jensen shook his head.

“Okay,” Chris said. “Okay.” He nodded, pinched the bridge of his nose. “But you’re all right, right? You’re okay now?”

“As okay as I can be,” Jensen said.

“You need a place to stay? Me and Steve have an extra room,” Chris said.

Jensen felt Jared go still beside him, all his muscles tensed, like he felt cornered. He was gripping Jensen’s knee like he might lose him. Like this was the end.

“No,” Jensen said. “Thanks. Really. But I’m good where I am.”

***

When they got home, Jensen collapsed on the bed. When Jared didn’t join him, he rolled onto his back to find him standing at the end, looking nervous, like he wasn’t sure of his welcome.

The room was blue with moonlight, and his boyfriend stood over him, and Jensen was exactly where he wanted to be.

He held his hand out. “C’mere,” he said.

Jared crawled on top of him, and they fell asleep all tangled up in each other.


	7. Tell Me I'm Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follows immediately after "Crush."

Jared woke before Jensen. He hadn’t slept well that night, and even if he had, he always woke first. And when he woke, his first instinct was to reach for Jensen and make sure he was still there. Even before they’d become what they’d become, Jared would rise early and pad out to his living room to make sure Jensen was still on the couch, safe, warm, and sleeping without fear because he was safe and warm.

But it had been worse that night, that need to make sure Jensen was still beside him. Every time Jared closed his eyes, he heard the echo of Jensen’s scream in that grocery store, saw the way he’d put his hands over his face and just screamed out something so hopeless and angry that Jared had at first thought the noise hadn’t even been human until he’d realized it was coming straight from his boyfriend’s throat. And Jared would hear that noise over and over again in his head, and he’d reach out to Jensen and touch what was near—his hand, the stubble on his chin, his eyelid, the scar across his lips. He just touched.

He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to ask Jensen what he should do to help him, but things had been good lately, and Jared wanted also to believe that whatever had happened that night was just the stress of seeing Jensen’s friend, of Jensen needing to explain again what had happened to him.

Jared pulled himself out of bed, slipped on a pair of socks, his running shorts, his shoes. He bent down and kissed the crown of Jensen’s head, pressed his lips to the spikes of bed head there. It was all Jared could see of his boyfriend, and the sight made him smile. He made sure to put on a pot of coffee before he leashed the dogs up for their morning run.

Since he’d met Jensen, Jared’s morning runs had become even more important to him. Jensen had tried once or twice to wake up and run with him, but, to be honest, Jared was glad to have this time for himself. Jensen didn’t talk as much as Jared, not by a long shot, but he still had a presence that could fill a room, and his silence spoke whole novels, and sometimes just sitting beside Jensen and wondering what was happening in his head could make Jared feel so anxious and sad that he wound up getting both of them drunk or eating two whole bags full of the gummy worms Jensen always talked him into buying from the bulk bin at the grocery store. Or he talked until he annoyed Jensen and they fought, and Jared had never known anyone who could fight like Jensen, and he’d never cared about anyone so much that he cared enough to fight with them. So they had epic fights that made Jared joke afterwards about needing a house so the neighbors wouldn’t hear them and call nine-one-one on their asses. But they always made up afterwards, and sometimes fighting was the only way Jared could get Jensen to talk to him about anything important. So they fought.

Jared listened to the thwack thwack of his rubber soles against the pavement and the softer thu-thu-thud of his dogs paws as they ran, and he tuned everything out but those noises, and he focused on his breathing, on the air he pulled in and out of his lungs, and he got zen with the moment. Sometimes, that was all he could do.

Back at the apartment, Jared let the dogs off their leashes, fed them three quarters of a cup of dry food each (he had to hold Harley back as he poured Sadie’s), then he went to his bedroom. Jensen had shifted so that he was in the center of the bed, his limbs sprawled toward all four corners as if he’d leapt from a plane. He was awake, though, and he looked at Jared and smiled before propping himself up on his side on one elbow.

“Good run?” he said, his voice still rough with sleep, his hair on one side fanned out across his head.

Jared ran his sweaty hand through Jensen’s hair. “You look like you could be part of Flock of Seagulls,” Jared said.

“Hey,” Jensen said. “I work hard for this look.” He shoved at Jared a bit. “You’re sweating all over the bed, Padalecki.”

“Shower with me?” Jared said.

“Yeah,” Jensen said.

In the bathroom, Jared stripped and got the water running. It was warm by the time Jensen walked in. He was naked and scratching at the trail of hair on his belly, grinning. He licked his lips and tugged on his cock once. He was half hard already—morning wood—and Jared wasn’t far behind.

Jared grabbed his boyfriend by the shoulder and pulled him close. He hooked his arm around Jensen’s neck, leaned down and kissed him, long and slow, and he palmed at Jensen’s cock, and he felt Jensen shiver, pant against Jared’s mouth.

“You like that, baby?” Jared whispered. “You like my big hand on your cock? Like how I can grab it all up in my hand?”

“Fuck,” Jensen moaned.

“Wanna show me you like it?” Jared said.

He felt Jensen nod against him, Jensen’s forehead pressed to his cheek, and he walked Jensen into the shower, guided him so that he was kneeling before Jared beneath the spray. Jared watched as Jensen looked up at him, watched how the water trailed across Jensen’s freckled cheeks, how he had to blink to keep the water from his eyes, how he pressed his tongue to the corner of his mouth where his scar was, tasting the water, waiting to taste Jared. Jared took Jensen’s head in his hand, led him forward to his cock. But Jensen pulled away. He kissed the inside of Jared’s thigh, kissed a trail downward to his ankles, until he was kneeling further before Jared, hunched forward enough that he could press one wet kiss to the top of Jared’s foot. He wrapped a hand loosely around Jared’s ankle and stayed like that until Jared knelt beside him and put a hand on his wet back, traced the drops of water and freckles there with one finger.

“Jen,” he said.

“Love you so much, Jay,” Jensen whispered. “I don’t deserve you.”

Jared grabbed his boyfriend’s shoulders and tugged him until he was looking Jared in the eye. And Jensen gripped Jared’s shoulders back, hard enough Jared thought he might have marks when they were through.

Jared started to say something, but Jensen just leaned in and kissed him. He sat back on his calves and pulled Jared with him until they were both getting wet and making out on the floor of their shower like they didn’t have a perfectly fine bed in the next room.

“Will you fuck me?” Jensen said when he pulled away enough to get a breath.

“Yeah,” Jared said. “Yeah.”

He stood and tugged Jensen with him. He knew Jensen liked that, liked that Jared was big enough to manhandle him, position Jensen just where he wanted him. Jensen had told Jared he’d never had a boyfriend who could do that before. He’d told Jared he’d never trusted anyone enough to let them have that kind of control over him. And Jared, who’d always been too self-conscious of his size to let himself go like that, had learned to let himself go with Jensen, to let himself be rough when Jensen wanted it rough, to hold Jensen down and fuck him like that was the only way either of them could survive.

He pushed Jensen against the shower wall and held Jensen’s hands above his head, crossed at the wrists.

“Don’t move them,” he said.

Jensen nodded, his cheek slipping against the wet tile wall.

Jared spread Jensen’s legs for him, slicked his fingers up with conditioner, and opened Jensen up on them. He hooked his fingers and went straight for Jensen’s prostate, had him twitching and moaning against the wall before Jensen could even mutter a curse.

“You’re gonna come for me,” Jared said. He wrapped his other hand around Jensen’s cock and tugged, his touch rough, his knuckles bumping against the wall with each pull. “Just like this,” Jared said. “Want you to come, be all loose and happy before I fuck you. You want that, baby?”

“Yes, fuck,” Jensen said. “Fuck, I want whatever you want to give me.”

Jared flicked his wrist, rubbed his thumb up over the crown of Jensen’s cock, pressed it into the slit at the same time he pressed into Jensen’s prostate with the other hand. Over and over again. Over and over until Jensen came, his hands splayed above his head, Jared’s name on his lips.

When Jensen was still trembling, standing only because Jared was holding him up, Jared pushed in, slow and steady. He pressed his forehead to Jensen’s shoulder when he bottomed out and wanted to weep at the feel of Jensen’s warm body around his cock.

Jensen squeezed his ass around him. “C’mon, Jay,” Jensen moaned. “Want you to come inside me. Wanna wear your come to work. Want everyone to know.”

“Christ,” Jared said. He pulled out and shoved back in. Fucked Jensen hard enough he’d be walking funny the rest of the day. Fucked Jensen hard enough to give him just what he wanted, and when he came, he stayed right where he was until he was soft and couldn’t stay inside of Jensen any longer.

They dressed in silence. Jensen in chinos and a fitted black sweater. He grumbled something about not having any fucking contact solution and put his glasses on. Jared just tugged on some jeans and a t-shirt. He still had time off before summer school—he’d been chosen to teach a special program that summer about using art to teach math—and he planned to spend the day sketching ideas for a commissioned piece he needed to have finished in a couple of weeks. It was his first commission, for a doctor’s office in University City, and he was a little nervous about it. He wished Jensen could be home with him today, that they could wander the city together and Jared could sketch and Jensen could write. Jensen could drink too many Americanos and Jared could talk him into going to that new chocolate shop in Maplewood that had homemade toffee Jared was dying to try.

Jensen seemed to have the same thought. When they were both dressed, he wrapped himself around Jared from behind.

“Don’t wanna work,” Jensen mumbled.

Jared felt the words against his back more than he heard them.

“I know,” Jared said. “But you have to.”

“I keep thinking about Chris,” Jensen said. “I keep thinking about my mom.”

“What are you gonna do?” Jared said.

“I can’t call her,” Jensen said.

“You might have to call her,” Jared said.

“If I don’t, Chris will.”

“It looks that way,” Jared said.

“Maybe I should just let him,” Jensen said.

Jared pulled away and turned to face him.

“You won’t let him do that,” Jared said.

Jensen looked at him, his face unreadable. “Why not?”

“Because that’s not you,” Jared said.

Jensen snorted. “I’m sorry, Jay, but yeah—that is me.”

“Jensen—”

“I’m a fucking coward, Jay. This is what I do. I can’t,” he took a deep, harsh breath, his eyes suddenly panicked. “I can’t face it. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

“Hey,” Jared said. “Stop saying that.”

Jared reached out to calm him, and Jensen stopped speaking, but he also flinched like he thought Jared would hit him. He seemed to realize what he’d done though, and his face just…shut off, just like that. A perfect, blank mask. A Jensen mask—every feature right, but no life.

“You’re right,” Jensen said. “I’m being an asshole.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jared said. He reached for Jensen, but Jensen pulled away.

“Gotta go to work,” Jensen said. “See you tonight.”

***

Jared spent all day worrying. Sketching and worrying. He put his worries down on the paper. He drew a sunflower, big as a skyscraper, with a dead, black, wilting sunflower as its mirror image. He sketched Jensen’s face from memory, Jensen smiling, his eyes crinkled up at the corners, and his tongue just barely peeking out from between his teeth. He sketched his own face, big and blocky, just like him—a big dumb Sasquatch who just couldn’t get anything right. He called Jensen at his office, but the other editorial assistant told Jared he was outside smoking. When Jared called Jensen’s cell phone, he got no answer.

Jensen walked through the door at his usual time. He looked tired, but otherwise normal. When he saw Jared, he looked sheepish. He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck.

“Jamie told me you called,” he said. “We were on a big project, though. This book has to be out tomorrow. That’s why I couldn’t call you back.”

“It’s okay,” Jared said, though it wasn’t.

“No it’s not,” Jensen said.

“No,” Jared shook his head, “it’s not.”

“I know.” Jensen pulled out a kitchen chair and sat, his shoulders slumped. He talked to the table instead of Jared. “I shouldn’t take this shit out on you, and I know that. You’ve been good to me. You don’t deserve it.”

“You keep saying that, like I’m some saint. But that’s not the problem, Jen. I just,” Jared swallowed, ran his hand through his hair. “I just worry about you, man. I worry so much. You act like I’m so much better than you, but I’m not so great. And if I’m not so great then I don’t know what you can think of yourself to think you don’t deserve me. It scares the shit out of me sometimes.”

“I just want to be happy for you,” Jensen said. He rubbed his thumb back and forth across the table top. “I want to be perfect for you. You give me so much, and I love you so goddamn much, but I’m a miserable bastard most of the time and you don’t fucking deserve that, Jay. You deserve someone who is happy.”

Jensen gulped in a breath, and though Jared didn’t think he was crying, he looked just on the edge of it.

Jared sat and grabbed Jensen’s hand before he rubbed a groove into the wood.

“I want you to be happy,” Jared said. “Of course I want that. But there’s a difference, you know, between being happy for me and being happy for yourself.”

Jensen shook his head. He tugged his hand away.

Jared cleared his throat. “Is it me?” he said. “Do I make you unhappy?”

“God, no,” Jensen said, and he finally looked at Jared. There were blotches of red in his cheeks, and his lips looked like he’d spent the day biting them. “It’s not you. I just get all fucked up inside sometimes. Seeing Chris really threw me, you know?” He ran a hand through his hair and it stuck up in spikes all over his head. “Maybe we could just forget all of this ever happened, huh? Order pizza and watch True Grit?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Jared said. “I think we should just get it over with. Or at least talk it out. Make a plan.”

“A plan?” Jensen said, his voice flat. “So we should just ‘plan’ the best way for me to call my mother—who I haven’t talked to in over three years—and explain to her that the reason I disappeared for a while is because I was living behind a dumpster in an alley and sucking cocks for enough money to buy a sandwich every few days.”

“Jen—”

“Sure,” Jensen continued. “We can ‘plan’ that.”

“You’re being an asshole again,” Jared said.

“Just fuck off, Jared,” Jensen said. “You don’t understand a goddamned thing.”

“I’m trying to help.”

“Yeah, well you can’t help, so stop fucking trying.” Jensen stood, and he knocked his chair over in the process. “Fuck!” he said.

Jared tried to grab him, to calm him down a little, but Jensen just pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen said. “I am. But I just need you to leave me alone for a bit.” He backed up toward the door. “I’m just…gonna go walk or something. I’ll be back later.”

When Jensen disappeared, Jared stood silent in the kitchen for a few minutes, not thinking, not hearing or feeling. When he came back to himself, he looked around the kitchen, bent down to right the overturned chair, but wound up lifting it and slamming it against the kitchen floor instead. He grunted as the chair broke in his hands, then he stood over the mess. He’d never done anything like that before. It had felt terrible to do it.

A part of Jared thought he shouldn’t go after Jensen, that Jensen clearly didn’t want him to, and even if Jensen did want Jared to go after him, why should he? But he dismissed that thought as soon as he had it. He grabbed his keys from the counter and went. He gave a sheepish smile to the Asian kid who lived across the hall from them and who was standing in the hallway looking stunned with his keys halfway to his lock, then he rushed down the stairs, trying to decide where Jensen might have gone. But he didn’t have to go far. When he stepped outside, Jensen was sitting on the concrete stairs in front of their building, smoking a cigarette and staring up at the sky.

Jared slowed to a walk, then when Jensen didn’t say anything, he sat down beside him.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen said.

“You say that a lot,” Jared said.

“It’s all I have,” Jensen said.

“That’s bullshit,” Jared said, though he kept his voice gentle. “You use your illness as an excuse.”

Jensen looked stunned for a minute, but Jared just kept eye contact with him. He didn’t want to be cruel, but his momma had always taught him that honesty was the key to a good relationship. And he wanted a relationship with this man, for better or for worse.

Jensen finally nodded, slowly. “I know,” he said. He took a drag of his cigarette and nodded again. “I know.”

“I want to help you, Jensen, but this thing between us has to be about more than that, more than just me helping you,” Jared said.

“It is,” Jensen said. “Jay, I swear it is. I just don’t really know how to do this.” He waved his hand between them. “This relationship thing is new to me, man. Every relationship I’ve been in has been all fucked to hell. It freaks me right the fuck out how good things are between us.”

Jared nodded.

“When I was in the hospital,” Jensen started. He looked at Jared from beneath his eyelashes, which Jared knew was Jensen-speak for I really don’t want to talk about what we’re about to talk about. “I had this doctor, Jeff, who told me all the time that I was self-destructive. That my problem wasn’t the bipolar disorder but that I can’t help but hurt myself. Something starts going right, and I fuck it all to hell. I don’t want to do that with you.”

“I don’t want that either,” Jared said.

“So you gotta tell me when I’m being an asshole, okay?” Jensen said. “I’m gonna try harder, but you gotta tell me.”

“Free reign to call you an asshole, huh?” Jared said.

He smiled a little, but Jensen searched Jared’s face as if he were looking for the trick.

“Can I say I’m sorry now and you’ll know I mean it?” Jensen said.

“C’mere, asshole,” Jared said, and he pulled Jensen into a kiss.


	8. Opening Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set about a year after Jared and Jensen get together. Just an interlude. Jared has a gallery show; happiness, angst, and sex ensue.

Jensen stared at the picture of himself. It was large, just a little over life-sized, and in it he was looking down and smiling. He remembered that day in the park. They’d been walking Harley and Sadie, and they’d stopped for lunch at the Boathouse, and Jared had snapped a picture of him mid-laugh. And now Jared had painted it, made a picture of Jensen and hung it up on the wall where all their friends could see. When Jensen looked at it, there was a fluttering in his veins, embarrassment and pride duking it out to see which one would win and take over for the night.

He heard Jared’s laugh from somewhere across the room, and he turned to look. Jared was surrounded by people; he had a suit jacket on and a white shirt. He’d lost his tie at some point in the night, and Jensen could see just a hint of skin where Jared’s collar was open. He was clutching a bottle of champagne, unopened, that he’d been given as a congratulations from Sandy, and his laugh was just a shade too loud, which Jensen knew meant he was either nervous or drunk, or maybe both.

This show was Jared’s baby. They’d pooled their money to rent him studio and gallery space, and they’d been pinching every penny they had left so he could take a semester off from teaching to work on his art. They’d done everything themselves; Jensen had written a guerilla ad campaign and posted flyers with Jared’s art all over the city; Jared had worked all the galleries in the area to attract an audience. Now the night was here, and they were both on edge. The reality was, no matter how good Jared’s art, this show might not get him anywhere, and he wasn’t assured a teaching position for the next semester. They were surviving on Jensen’s earnings alone at this point, and he wasn’t sure how long that could work.

But Jensen was proud. Goddamn, he was proud of his boy. He looked at the painting Jared made of him one last time. Fuck embarrassment. That was Jared’s art. He walked across the gallery, dodging people eating little orange blocks of cheese off red plastic plates, and slid up behind Jared. He put his arm around Jared’s waist and leaned into his side. When Jared smiled at him, a hint of sweat at his hairline and temples, Jensen just smiled back.

***

Jared sat in the stairwell, a beer bottle dangling by the neck from the loose grasp of his fingertips. He’d taken his jacket off and set it somewhere, and he’d rolled up the sleeves of his best dress shirt. There was a smudge of paint on his forearm. He and Jensen and finished painting the last of the gallery walls that morning. They hadn’t even had time to take showers once they’d hung the final pieces. Not that that had stopped them. They’d simply showered together. Jared had fucked into Jensen and, when he’d come, he’d bitten Jensen hard enough to break the skin. He’d left a nice little mark that said Jared that was only just covered by Jensen’s shirt. Jared was just fine with that.

“Good show,” someone said from above him.

Jared looked up and smiled. The man was maybe ten or so years older than Jared, and he had on easily the finest suit Jared had ever seen.

“Thanks,” Jared said.

“You’re Padalecki?” the man asked.

Jared nodded.

“I was in town for the Serra exhibit, but I thought I’d see what else this city had to offer.” The man sat next to Jared on the steps. “I gotta tell you, kid. This is the best work I’ve seen in a while.”

“Thanks, man,” Jared said.

“You must have been working with ink for a long time to get this technique down.”

“It’s my first time,” Jared said. “I like it though. It makes me feel like I’m building shadows.”

Jared watched the man’s eyes widen slightly. “Your first time,” he said.

Jared nodded.

“My name’s John Hamm,” the man said. He held out his hand and Jared shook it.

“Good to meet you,” he said.

“I don’t want to get your hopes up, kid,” John said. “But I work for Art Forum. I’d like to do a write up of your work if you’d let me.”

Jared felt a grin split his face. All the noise in the gallery just sort of…slipped away. “You’re shitting me,” he said, when he found his voice.

John shook his head, took a sip of his cocktail, and loosened his tie. “An up and comer like you? No, I’m not fucking with you. Your work’s more interesting than Richard Serra, as far as I’m concerned.”

Jared saw Jensen walking toward them, and he stood and pulled his boyfriend into his side. John stood and looked at the two of them.

“Jen,” Jared said. “This is Mr. Hamm. He works for Art Forum.”

“Fuck,” Jensen said.

Jared laughed.

“I mean,” Jensen said, blushing and sticking his hand out. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Jen is it?” John said.

“Jensen,” he said. “Jared and I…” he trailed off.

“Jensen’s my boyfriend,” Jared said.

John nodded. “Why don’t I take you two for a drink after the show?”

***

Jensen slipped out of his boots and toed them aside. As he undressed, he watched his boyfriend sleep. Jared was fully dressed and on top of the covers, his face mashed into Jensen’s favorite pillow. He was snoring. When Jensen got down to his boxers, he went to work on Jared. He pulled the wingtips he’d bought Jared just for the occasion off one by one and set them next to his own shoes. He somehow managed to get Jay to roll over and unbuttoned and unzipped his dress pants and pulled them down. They were hopelessly wrinkled, so he threw them straight in the hamper. He got Jared’s shirt unbuttoned, but was at a loss as to how to get the thing off of him, so instead, he turned off the lights and crawled in bed next to him, fitting himself against the pillow of Jared’s shoulder.

Jensen wasn’t mad that Jared had gotten drunk. Jared rarely drank more than a few beers at a time, and Jensen could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Jared drunk in the year they’d been together. Jensen had told him he should let go tonight, if he wanted to.

Jensen himself had quit drinking almost two months ago now. He’d had too much to drink during a night out with Chris and the alcohol interacted badly with his meds. He’d passed out, hit his head on the bar’s bathroom sink, and woken up in the hospital. It wasn’t the first night he’d had too much to drink, and it was all he could do to get Jared to believe he wasn’t doing it on purpose. That he had no intention to now or ever take his own life. He didn’t have a death wish. Not now when things were so goddamned good between him and Jared.

Jared was always warm, but tonight it felt like sleeping next to a furnace. Jensen pressed himself closer and pressed his nose into Jared’s shoulder, rubbed the stubble from his chin across Jared’s skin, trying to coax him awake. He should let him sleep, but he wanted to talk.

“Jay,” he whispered. He tipped up onto an elbow and leaned in until he could lick a stripe across Jared’s nipple. He sucked the bud into his mouth. Teased it with a gentle nip of his teeth. He felt Jared stir beneath him.

“Jen?” Jared said.

Jensen licked up Jared’s chest, pressed his nose beneath Jared’s chin so he could suck at his neck.

“Feels good,” Jared said. He rested a hand against the back of Jensen’s head.

“I’m so damn proud of you,” Jensen said. “Fuck, Jay. You did so good tonight.”

He leaned up so he could see Jared’s face. Jared’s eyes were still closed, but Jensen could tell he was awake. There was a hint of a smile curling his lips.

“Want me to blow you, Jay? Huh?” Jensen said. “You deserve it after tonight.” He bit Jared’s chin. He loved the roughness of his stubble against his lips.

“No, baby,” Jared said. “Don’t think I could get it up if I tried.”

Jared laughed a little. Jensen felt the rumble of it where their chests were pressed together. He laid himself down so that his head was beneath Jared’s chin.

“You think he’s tellin’ the truth, Jen?” Jared said. “You think my stuff’s good enough for a feature?”

“Of course it is.”

Jared sighed. “But you don’t think he’s telling the truth.”

“I didn’t say that,” Jensen said.

“You don’t have to.”

Jared sat up, practically dumping Jensen sideways onto the bed.

“Jay,” Jensen said. “Where are you going? Come back to bed.”

“I gotta pee,” Jared said.

He disappeared into the bathroom, and Jensen sat staring at the light from beneath the bathroom door, the line of it in the darkness of the room.

When Jared came out, he’d taken his shirt off, and he shuffled toward the bed. He sat on the edge, but didn’t get in.

“You’re mad at me,” Jensen said. It wasn’t a question.

“You’re just so damn cynical all the time,” Jared said. “I know you think my art’s good. I know that. You wouldn’t lie. But you don’t think he was telling the truth about the write up.”

“What do I know?” Jensen said. “I don’t know anything about art critics. He was probably telling the truth. I mean, why would he lie?”

Jared looked over his shoulder. “Exactly,” he said. “Why would he lie?”

Jensen just looked at Jared. The look in his eyes was too sharp for how drunk Jensen had thought he was.

“C’mon, Jen,” Jared said finally. “I know you have a theory. Why would he lie?”

“We should be celebrating,” Jensen said.

“I’d love to,” Jared said. “But you’re making it a little difficult. You were rude to him all through dinner.”

Jensen nodded.

“You stared at him. All night. You barely said a word, and what you did say was pure asshole.”

Jensen knew Jared was right. He didn’t like Mr. Hamm. He’d thought he was hiding it. He really hadn’t meant to ruin Jared’s night, but apparently Jared could read him a little too easily.

Jensen rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “He wanted to fuck you.”

“What?” Jared said.

“C’mon, Jay,” Jensen said. “You aren’t this naïve, man. Maybe he really does like your art. Fuck knows it’s good enough. But that’s not what he was interested in.”

Jared’s lips tightened into a thin line. He looked away from Jensen and nodded his head once. He grabbed a pillow from the bed and stood, walked into the living room.

Jensen thought about following. He groped through the mess on the nightstand for his pack of cigarettes, he put one between his lips, didn’t light it; he was trying to quit.

He walked out into the living room. “I’m sorry,” he said to Jared’s silhouette. The cigarette bobbed up and down with the movement of his lips. “Please don’t be mad.”

“A write up in Art Forum could change everything.”

“I know,” Jensen said.

“I knew he wanted to fuck me,” Jared said.

Jensen sat beside him. Jared took the cigarette from his mouth, tossed it on the coffee table.

“I just want this so damn bad,” Jared said.

Jensen clenched his knees. “You can do it, if you want,” he said.

“Do what?” Jared said.

“Sleep with him,” Jensen said. He could keep his hands from trembling if he clenched his knees hard enough.

“You want me to sleep with him?” Jared said.

“Of course I don’t,” Jensen said.

“Then why would you say that?”

Jared sounded furious, and Jensen just tried to sink into the couch.

“I don’t want you to regret anything,” Jensen said.

“So let me get this straight,” Jared said. “You don’t want me to sleep with him, but you’re okay with it anyway if I think it will help me get a write up.”

Jensen shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Damn straight, you don’t,” Jared said. “Fuck, Jensen.” Jared ran a hand through his hair. “Do you really think I could do something like that?”

“No,” Jensen said. “Of course not. I’m sorry I said anything.”

“I’m too drunk for this,” Jared said.

“Jay,” Jensen said. “Let’s go back to bed.”

“Go without me,” Jared said. “I need some space.”

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you never to go to bed angry?” Jensen said.

“Yeah, well,” Jared said. “My mom never had to live with you.”

Jensen sat up the rest of the night smoking. He didn’t get a minute of sleep.

***

Jared woke up later than normal, hungover and thirsty, a nightmare he couldn’t remember tickling his brain. Jensen was in the kitchen, sipping coffee and watching him carefully.

Jared said a gruff, “Hey,” and walked toward the door to slip into his running shoes.

He pulled a glass down from a cabinet, filled it with water from the tap, chugged it, then filled it again. He drank this one more slowly, leaning against the counter and looking out the window.

“I brought the dogs outside already,” Jensen said.

Jared nodded. “I’m going for a run,” he said.

“Jared,” Jensen said, and when Jared looked at him, he almost felt guilty.

Jensen was obviously a wreck. His stubble was edging toward a beard, and his hair was standing up all over his head in greasy spikes. His lips were chapped. Jared could smell the cigarettes on him.

“I just need to go for a run,” Jared said. “Okay? Just…let me run it out before we talk.”

“You want to talk?” Jensen said. “I mean, you don’t want me to leave?”

Jared’s foggy brain tried to makes sense of that. “Why would I want that?” he said, but he was looking at Jensen and Jensen looked honestly relieved, like he’d thought Jared would actually ask him to leave, like he’d been sitting here drinking Jared’s coffee and wondering where he’d go if Jared did.

Jared was positive he had reason to be angry, but right now he sort of wanted to pull Jensen into a bear hug and remind him that’d they’d both fucked up plenty and Jared hadn’t asked him to leave yet.

It wasn’t like Jared forgot that every relationship Jensen had ever been in before this was a Bad Relationship. It was impossible to forget that. But sometimes the ways Jensen reacted to things because of his past still had a way of coming out of thin air and walloping Jared upside the head.

Jensen had been cheated on by everyone he’d ever dated. He’d been abused; he had a cigarette burn on his left thigh from the last person he’d dated before Jared and a scar on his face that he still wouldn’t tell Jared about; he’d been told he was good for nothing but sex, then he’d been forced to sell blow jobs to survive on the streets. It didn’t matter that he’d gone through undergrad and then graduate school, that he had a good job and a decent apartment, that he’d published enough poems to fill up an entire page on his CV, when it came to relationships, Jensen still thought he wasn’t worth a damn. Jared had said some pretty bad shit the night before, but he was willing to bet Jensen thought the fight was all on him and wouldn’t even say a bad word about Jared if he’d kicked him out.

Jared pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat at the table. He reached out and pulled Jensen in by the back of his neck, kissed him on the forehead. Jensen just looked at him when Jared let him go, his surprise evident.

“Let’s get something straight,” Jared said. “I’m not going to sleep with anyone but you for the rest of our goddamned lives, you got me?”

“Yeah, Jay,” Jensen said.

“I’m pissed as hell at you,” Jared said. “But I get it.”

“Get what?” Jensen said. He was staring into his coffee cup, like he was trying to read his future from the dregs or something.

Jared pulled his face up until Jensen met his eyes. “You’re worth more to me than some stupid article in a stupid magazine.”

“It’s not a stupid magazine,” Jensen said. There was color high in his cheeks, and he looked honestly angry. “This is your future. You might not get another chance at this.”

“Yeah, well,” Jared said. “I don’t want it that way.”

“I don’t get you, man,” Jensen said. He pushed Jared’s hands away and stood.

“Jen,” Jared said.

“No,” Jensen said. “You said last night…you said…”

“I was an asshole,” Jared said. “I was drunk. You should be just as pissed at me.”

“It’s my fault,” Jensen said. “I ruined your night. I have no right to be pissed.”

“Get pissed at me, Jen,” Jared said. “You have every fucking right.”

When Jared walked toward him, Jensen shoved him backwards.

“I was flirting with him,” Jared said. “I knew what he wanted, and I didn’t stop.”

“Right fucking in front of me,” Jensen said. “Like I wasn’t even fucking there.”

Jensen shoved him again until Jared’s back hit the wall.

“Fuck!” Jared said.

“You’re a goddamn asshole, Padalecki,” Jensen said. His hands were fisted in Jared’s t-shirt.

“I know,” Jared said.

“You weren’t thinking,” Jensen said.

“I was so fucking drunk, Jen,” he said. “And there was all this adrenalin. He could have been Dick fucking Cheney and I probably would’ve flirted with him.”

Jensen snorted a laugh and pressed his forehead to Jared’s. He kissed Jared softly, just a press of lips, but Jared opened him up, invited him in further. He let Jensen take over, and Jensen gripped his hands in Jared’s hair and tugged him until Jared was sliding down the wall, and Jensen followed him down until he was seated in Jared’s lap.

“Your mouth tastes terrible,” Jensen mumbled against his lips.

“I’m really hungover,” Jared said.

Jensen pulled Jared’s shirt over his head. “Guess I’ll have to do the work,” he said.

He fisted his hand in Jared’s hair and pulled his head back, dipped down to kiss along the line of his throat. Jared ran a hand across the crown of his head, down his neck, spread his fingers wide between Jensen’s shoulder blades. Jensen rolled a nipple between his lips then bit down, and Jared hissed and pushed Jensen away.

“Pushy fucking bottom,” Jared said. “Look at you sitting in my lap, your legs wide open like you just can’t wait to get fucked.” He worked his hand into Jensen’s briefs, wrapped Jensen’s cock up in his fist. “Is that what you want, baby? Want me to fuck you sloppy?”

“Fuck, yes,” Jensen said. His eyes fluttered closed, and he tipped his head back. His grasp in Jared’s hair loosened until he was close to coming from Jared’s touch, and he grasped tight again and cried out.

Just before Jensen could come, Jared pushed him out of his lap and flipped him onto his stomach, pulled his hips up and his briefs down until Jensen was ass up on the kitchen floor begging to be fucked. Jared reached over Jensen into a cabinet where they had a supply of lube, and he slicked his fingers and worked them into Jensen’s ass just enough so that it wouldn’t hurt too much to be fucked but not enough to really stretch him. When Jensen was cursing at him and begging to be fucked, Jared slicked his cock and worked his way in until he was balls deep, his torso draped over Jensen’s back.

 

He fucked into Jensen hard, angling just right to hit his prostate, each thrust moving Jensen forward on his hands and knees so that his skin was probably burning against the linoleum, but Jensen wasn’t complaining, just meeting Jared at every thrust and squeezing his muscles so that it felt almost too good and Jared came before he wanted to. Jensen came shortly after, tugging at his own cock, and they fell together to the floor, achy and tired, their skin sweat slick and sticking them together. Jared pulled Jensen back into the lee of his body, kissed the crown of his head.

“I love you, you crazy fuck,” Jared said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jensen said. “I love you, too, Jay. Now I just wanna sleep for a week.”


	9. Looking for Attention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PWP

Jensen watched Jared, who was sitting by the big window in their bedroom, the sun tripping across his face and down onto the pad of paper in his lap. He was sketching, his fingers covered in charcoal, and Jensen was sitting naked on the bed, leaning back on his elbows, legs spread, cock hard and dripping against his belly. He was posing for Jared, but at some point posing had turned into foreplay, and he’d tried to pull Jared out of the zone—he’d tweaked his nipples, tipped his head back and moaned, dragged his hand up his cock until it was flushed all red and pretty as a picture just for Jared—but Jared seemed more interested in his sketch then in the real thing at the moment.

Jensen slid down onto his hands and knees and crawled toward Jared. He watched as Jared’s fingers slowed then halted against the paper. When he reached his boyfriend, Jensen touched Jared’s hand and grabbed the sketchbook and charcoal from him. He set it on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Jared said.

“I needed a little attention,” Jensen said.

He rubbed his face against Jared’s thigh like a giant cat. If he could, he’d purr for Jared. Since he couldn’t, he kissed his way up Jared’s thigh instead, pushing until Jared spread his legs. When Jensen got to the bulge of Jared’s cock, he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses to it through Jared’s jeans until the denim was soaking with saliva and pre-come and Jared was writing and clutching the back of Jensen’s neck to hold him where he was.

“Tease,” Jared said.

“Not a tease, baby,” Jensen said. He pulled Jared’s fly down with his teeth, then looked up at him through his lashes. “I’m right here. You can do whatever you want to me.”

Jared brushed Jensen’s hair back from his forehead, pushing him away at the same time to make room to release his cock. He stroked it a couple of times, and Jensen watched. He felt high, his arousal zinging around under his skin, making his toes and finger tips feel like they could shoot sparks, and he licked his lips and watched, completely hungry for this man’s cock.

“Now who’s teasing,” he moaned, when it didn’t look like Jared would give it to him any time soon.

But then Jared just relaxed, leaned back in his chair, took his hand off his dick, and said, “Get to work.”

Jensen leaned in, resting his hands against Jared’s thighs for support. He mouthed up the underside of Jared’s cock, all along the vein, wet suction and heat, and when he got to the top, he went back down, then licked from root to tip before taking the crown into his mouth. He pressed his tongue into Jared’s slit, tasting the pre-come there. Jared’s dick was messy during sex, more pre-come then Jensen had ever seen before, and Jensen loved it, loved to slurp it up and add his drool to the mix, get them both as wet and messy as possible before opening wide and stuffing his throat full of Jared Jared Jared.

But before Jensen could get to the goods, Jared grabbed him up beneath his arms and pulled him up, wrestled Jensen into his lap until Jensen was straddling him and felt loose and boneless, even though he hadn’t even come.

“I hope you’re ready for me,” Jared said, right up against Jensen’s ear.

Jensen shivered at the feel of Jared’s breath, and the feel of his naked skin against Jared’s clothed body.

Jared dragged a finger down Jensen’s back and between his cheeks, rubbed rough circles against Jensen’s hole until Jensen loosened just enough to let Jared’s fingertip in and Jensen moaned and tried to lean against Jared’s chest, but Jared caught Jensen’s chin in his other hand and tilted Jensen’s face up to look at him.

“You gonna let me fuck you, Jen?” Jay said. “You gonna let me stuff this tight little pussy of yours all full with my cock. Huh? Is that the kind of attention you wanted?”

He pressed his finger further into Jensen’s hole, and Jensen’s mouth opened on a pant.

Jared leaned in and sucked Jensen’s bottom lip into his mouth, bit it red and swollen, and when he was finished there, he moved to Jensen’s scar, licked up the length of it, bottom to top across Jensen’s lips, then he tilted his head and kissed Jensen there at the corner of his mouth, sucked on it a little like he wanted to give Jensen a hickey, cover up that old mark with Jared’s own. Jensen was trembling now and would have pulled away had Jared not been holding him in place, the feel of Jared’s mouth against that old wound intimate in a way that was wholly frightening and entirely addictive, and Jensen would never get over feeling like that.

“Jay,” Jensen said, his lips moving against Jared’s.

Jared pressed his finger against Jensen’s prostate, and Jensen came, just like that, without even being touched, then Jared lifted him by his thighs and seated him on his cock in one quick move, like Jensen was meant to be there—one puzzle piece fitting to another. Jensen didn’t even mind the burn, just curled himself into Jared and moaned openly against Jared’s throat as Jared thrust into him, his jeans chafing at Jensen’s thighs, his hands gripping Jensen—one under the arm, one under the thigh—so he could move Jensen up and down on his cock.

By the time Jared finished, Jensen was half hard again, his cock trapped between Jared’s belly and his own, and he just rested there, letting Jared plug him up until Jared was soft and his come was trickling from Jensen’s asshole. Jared tugged at Jensen’s hole with his thumb, and Jensen gasped, smeared saliva against Jared’s neck.

He felt Jared’s laugh more than heard it.

“Did I break you?” Jared said. He combed one hand through Jensen’s hair, tugged again at the rim of Jensen’s hole with the other. “Did I make your little pussy feel all wet and messy? Stuffed full with my come?”

“Keep talking like that, you’re gonna have to get it up again,” Jensen mumbled.

“You hard again, baby?” Jared said. “Maybe I just wanna keep you that way all night.”

“You talk a big game,” Jensen said. He bumped his head up against Jared’s chin, kissed across his jaw line until he was breathing in Jared’s ear. “Put that big hand of yours on my cock, Jay, before I rub myself off against your belly.”

“I’d like to see that,” Jared said, but he was wrapping his hand around Jensen and scratching gently under the head of his cock with his thumbnail. He stroked until Jensen was bucking against him and Jensen came all over the place.

“That was good,” Jensen said, after he felt he could talk. His voice was slurry. “Put me on the bed?”

“You can walk, hot stuff.”

“That’s a dirty lie,” Jensen said. But he climbed off Jared slowly and stumbled his way to the bed.

“You gonna lay still for me now that you’re all fucked out and happy?” Jared said.

“Of course,” Jensen said.

But that bit came later because Jensen found himself covered in Jared the next minute, and Jared kept him occupied all afternoon by kissing him breathless.


	10. Your Fingers on My Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Jensen needs to be in control. **Warnings for sensory deprivation and bondage in this chapter. Please skip if that's not your thing as this chapter is not necessary for the overall story.

Sometimes Jensen needs to be in control. Jared tries to give him what he needs. It’s strange, Jared thinks, because most of the time, it seems as if Jensen wants Jared to overpower him. He’s told Jared it makes him feel safe that Jared can do that, can grab him and really move him. But Jared thinks that for Jensen, this thing he needs from Jared isn’t about power. It’s about trust. It’s about Jensen learning to believe that Jared trusts him. Jared wants to say that he doesn’t understand why Jensen has such a hard time believing that simple fact, but the truth is, he does understand it. Jensen has been fucked up and fucked around by other people, but more than anything, he’s been his own worst enemy. He gets so turned around in his own head sometimes that he can’t see why anyone would value him or extend him any kind of trust. So Jared can do this for him.

He kneels on the hardwood floor. He can feel the sun on his bare skin, but beyond that, there is nothing. Just the pressure against his face and temples of the supple leather mask that Jensen put him in.

Jensen had taken his time stripping Jared. He’d touched Jared’s bare skin, his fingertips pulling goose bumps to the surface, his touch so light Jared’s hair had stood on end. He’d looked down at Jensen, watching him examine his body, but Jensen had reached up, gripped Jared’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, and tilted Jared’s head up just slightly and asked Jared to turn his eyes to the wall. And Jared did it, forcing himself to follow Jensen’s movements by feeling alone.

When Jensen was satisfied, he’d asked Jared to kneel. Jared did, looking up at Jensen, trying to show that this was okay, that whatever Jensen wanted he would give. Jensen had dragged his thumb across Jared’s eyelids.

“Keep them shut,” he’d said.

Jared murmured his assent, and Jensen wrapped a soft blindfold around his face. When he tied it, some of Jared’s hair caught in the knot, and Jared winced, his cock jumping at the pain that mixed with the pleasure of Jensen’s warm chuckle in his ear.

“Are you ready, Jay?” he’d said.

“Yeah,” Jared said.

“You’ll be completely dependent on me.”

Jared’s throat felt dry. “I want that,” he said, even though he stumbled a bit over the words.

Jensen knelt in front of him and pressed their lips together, his fingers tangled in the blindfold and Jared’s hair and angling Jared’s head backwards so he could fuck his tongue into Jared’s mouth, his stubble burning against Jared’s lips and chin. When Jensen pulled away, he left Jared panting. Jensen pressed his thumb into Jared’s open mouth, and just as Jared began to suckle, Jensen pulled away.

“There’ll be time for that later,” he said.

He tucked some of Jared’s hair out of the way, then slid the first plug into his ear. Jared felt it, a soft, warm suck, as it molded to the ear canal, muffling sound. When Jensen put a plug in his other ear, Jared’s whole world was reduced to the feel of Jensen’s hands on his skin and the sound of his own blood pulsing in his ears. He felt his heart pick up speed, and he turned his head a little, trying to find Jensen, but Jensen’s fingertips against his lips calmed him, and he let himself settle as Jensen pulled the mask over his face. Jensen had shown it to him before they began, how it would cover half of Jared’s face, only two small holes left open for his nostrils, how his mouth would be the only visible part of him, and Jared had gotten crazy turned on thinking of all the ways Jensen could use his mouth when Jared couldn’t see to stop him. The feeling of the mask now reminded him, and Jared’s cock was fully hard, aching between his legs in that restless way that made him want to hump at the air though he knew it would do nothing to ease the feeling.

Jensen’s finger tips tripped across his collar bone, down across his sternum. He dragged a line to one of Jared’s nipples, flicked at it, tugged and twisted until Jared was squirming. He thought maybe he’d cried out, but if he had, he hadn’t heard it. And wasn’t that something? He couldn’t hear a fucking thing. Jensen could be saying anything right now, and Jared wouldn’t know.

“Jensen?” Jared said, the vibration of it in his throat foreign because he’d never cared enough to pay attention to it before now.

Jensen tapped Jared’s throat gently, and Jared thought maybe that was his way of letting Jared know everything was okay.

Then, for a few minutes, he didn’t feel Jensen. Not his warmth. Not his touch. For all Jared knew, he could have been kneeling for hours before he finally felt Jensen again, but he didn’t think so. He was pretty sure it had only been minutes.

“Hey,” he said, and he grinned, though it felt awkward with the pressure of the mask against his top lip. He hoped he looked silly. He hoped he’d made Jensen smile.

He felt Jensen’s hand against his arm, then, urging him to stand. Jared did, and Jensen kept his hand on Jared’s bicep to steady him. He slid his hand down Jared’s arm and tangled their fingers together, then he pulled Jared along behind him, walking slowly enough so that Jared could find and keep his footing. He wondered how he must look, naked but for the mask, his cock probably flushed red and leaking, and Jensen probably still fully dressed, leading him through the house.

Jensen moved his hands to Jared’s hips and urged him to sit. Jared did, his ass meeting what had to be the sofa, and Jensen snugged Jared up against his side, resting Jared’s head against his chest, and this, this at least, was something Jared knew. Just resting with Jensen. Being with him. Jensen was probably watching some movie, or maybe even reruns of Project Runway, even though he pretended he hated that show.

Jared laughed a little against Jensen’s chest. “You better not be watching an episode I haven’t seen, Jens.”

He felt Jensen’s fingers against the nape of his neck.

Jared didn’t know how long he lay there, but he was comfortable and warm and pleasantly turned on, and he fell asleep like that, the feeling of Jensen’s body the only thing on his radar.

The game went on all day. Jared knew it was still day because he could feel the sun on his skin. Jensen had left him in this corner a long time ago. He’d blown Jared half stupid and hadn’t let him come, and he’d left him hard and dripping with no way of knowing when Jensen would come back. He needed to be in control sometimes, and that was fine. Jared could handle it. He kept his hands flat on his thighs, touching himself absently whenever he felt his erection beginning to wane, and he waited. When it was Jensen he was waiting for, he thought he could probably stay like this for a hell of a long time.


	11. Finely Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Jensen have been playing with bondage for a little while, and Jared wants to take it one step further. Jensen has trouble giving up control, but there are many things that he’d do for Jared even if he wouldn’t normally do them. Together, they discover a new kink. 
> 
> **Warning for this chapter - features pony play and bondage. Please skip if that isn't your thing.

“I want to try something, Jen.”

Jensen looked up from his notebook. Jared was leaning in the door. It was feigned casual, the hands shoved in the pockets, the legs crossed at the ankles, but there was a tension to Jared’s shoulders, and his lips were pursed flat in that way he had when he was nervous about something.

“Try something? Is this like when you wanted to try to eat an entire family style Pizza Hut dinner by yourself? Because that was sort of a disaster.”

Jared laughed, easy, and Jensen re-evaluated just how serious this was. He grinned back at his boyfriend. Just over two years of living with this man and that smile still made Jensen’s heart trip in his chest.

They were doing good, him and Jay. Jared’s art was going well; he’d had shows, commissions left and right, and the fall before he’d landed a position teaching in the MFA program at Wash U. They’d bought an honest to god house together. It was a big, drafty old thing. It needed a lot of love and care, and they’d both taken to calling it the money pit pretty quickly, but it had a big backyard for the dogs, it had room enough that Jensen could have an office and Jared could have a studio. The bedroom was big enough for a king size bed, and there was natural light all over the place spilling onto the hardwood floors. Jensen loved it in a way that was almost frightening. He’d never seen himself as a house guy, but here he was, in a house, with a boyfriend, two dogs, a book of poetry available for pre-order on Amazon, and only one-pill a day to keep him steady.

Jensen stood and walked to Jared, slid his arms around the man’s waist and buried his face in his chest. When Jared smoothed a big hand down Jensen’s back, Jensen tipped his head back and looked up, and Jared pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“What d’you wanna try, big guy?” Jensen said. “I’m all ears.”

Jared shuffled a little, nervous. He grabbed Jensen’s hand from the small of his back and tugged him through the doorway.

“It’s easier if I just show you,” he said.

“Jay?”

“Everything’s okay, Jens. I just…well.” He stopped in the living room and let go of Jensen’s hand.

It was pretty impossible for Jensen not to notice the tangle of leather on the coffee table.

He raised an eyebrow at Jared and reached to pick it up. It took him a few minutes to figure it out, but then, “It’s a bridle,” he said. He felt his pulse pick up speed, his cock stir in his jeans.

“It is,” Jared agreed. “Well, a halter.” His voice was quiet, and he was watching Jensen very carefully, but he wasn’t offering any help.

Jensen ran his fingers over the leather. “You should take better care of it than this,” he said. “Not let it get tangled.”

“I will,” Jared said.

“Is it for me?” Jensen asked.

“Only if you want,” Jared said. He pushed his hair back, rubbed the palms of his hands against his jeans. “We’ve been playing around with this stuff for a little while, now. With the hood. And the cuffs.”

“Yeah,” Jensen said. “We have.”

“Jens, c’mon, man. You gotta say something. You gotta know I’m nervous as fuck showing you this.” He laughed, his breath huffing out, and he did an awkward little hop like he didn’t know what to do with himself. It made Jensen smile.

“I’m not freaked, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Good,” Jared said. He smiled back. “I’m glad.”

“I guess I just don’t know where this is coming from.”

“I like what we’ve been doing, and I just wanted to learn more. So I thought, you know, research.” He shrugged. “I kept seeing things like this, and I just…”

“It made you hard.”

“So goddamn hard, Jens,” he breathed out.

Jensen laughed. He grabbed his boyfriend by the bicep, pulled him in, kissed him good and long.

Jared licked his lips, his eyes on Jensen while he sat with the halter in his lap, running the strips of leather and the steel rings connecting them all through his fingers. It felt good in his hands. It was good leather, finely made. Hell, it even smelled good. And Jensen was honest enough with himself to admit that the idea of doing this for Jared turned him on. Jensen loved Jared and trusted him. Nothing got him hotter when they were in bed than Jared manhandling him all over the goddamned place, his big ole puppy of a boyfriend suddenly demanding and possessive, working Jensen’s body they way he worked his paintings. But Jensen had been burned in the past. And he didn’t want to question Jared. Jared was different. Jared was Jared. Jared was the only person Jensen felt safe with.

“This kind of stuff isn’t easy for me,” he said, his voice hoarse. He looked up at Jared. “You gotta know it’s not you, man. I trust you.”

Jared sat beside him. “I know you do.”

“What is it you want from this?”

“I want to take care of you,” Jared said. “You fight me on that. All the time. It’s like you think if you let me in, you’re gonna lose control. Even with the hood I can tell it’s not really what you want. You’re trying to prove something to yourself when you put me in that thing. It turns me on more than it does you. And I love it, Jens, I do. I’ll do it for you any time you ask. But you’re hard right now thinking of wearing this for me, and you’re so fucking turned on you’re squirming.”

Jared wasn’t wrong. Jensen tried to rub his crotch through his jeans and Jared stopped him, grabbed his wrist and put Jensen’s hand flat on the couch, then he took over for him, squeezing and rubbing Jensen’s cock through the denim, leaning in to put his mouth to Jensen’s ear.

“You like thinking of it, baby?” Jared said. “You do, don’t you. Like thinking of me putting a bit in your mouth, reining you in.”

“Yeah,” Jensen said, half whisper, half moan.

“Think about it, then,” Jared said. He kissed Jensen’s temple, then he pulled away, left Jensen sitting on the couch horny and hurting, the leather halter in a pile on his lap.

***

Later that night, they were sitting on the couch together. Jared was watching a black and white western that Jensen had never seen, his head resting in Jensen’s lap, and Jensen was reading a book and drinking coffee. He wanted a cigarette even though he’d quit however long ago. He had one hand in Jared’s hair.

“What do you mean you want to take care of me?” he said as if picking up a conversation they’d only been having seconds ago.

Jared tilted his head back and looked at him upside down. “It’s not another language, Jens.” He grinned.

“Don’t be an asshole.”

Jared sighed, exaggerated. He flipped onto his side and snuggled in against Jensen’s stomach. “You like control,” he said.

“I do.”

“But you’re never really in control.”

“Jay—”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Jared said. “I only meant…you can’t control everything. No one can.”

“I can try.”

“Yeah but that sucks, Jen.” Jared sat up. He looked at Jensen, his eyes wide. “It sucks to live like that all the time.”

“I have to. When I lose control…”

“I know,” Jared said. “I do. Believe me when I say that I don’t want that any more than you do. It’s been a long time since you’ve had an episode.”

Jensen nodded.

“I just want you to be able to not worry about all of that. Just for a little while. And I thought, maybe you could like this. Maybe if you knew someone else had the reins for awhile.”

Jensen snorted a laugh.

“No pun intended,” Jared said, rolling his eyes at himself.

Jensen didn’t say anything for a long time, long enough that Jared laid back down and Jensen went back to pushing his hand through Jared’s hair.

“I’ve thought about it,” Jensen said later. “About doing things like that with you.”

“You have?” Jared said.

“Of course I have. Jesus, Jay. I’m the one who introduced you to bondage.”

“Lucky me,” Jared said with a leer.

“Yeah. Clearly I created a monster.”

“You don’t have to do it, Jensen. Really. I want you to know that I won’t hold it against you.”

“I know you won’t.”

“Good.”

“But I want to.”

“What?” Jared said, and this time when he sat up, he folded his legs up on the couch so that he could face Jensen completely.

“Maybe I want that,” Jensen said. “Maybe I want someone else to take the reins.”

***

Jared attacked this new thing between them with the same enthusiasm he attacked everything else. He’d only bought the bridle because he hadn’t been sure Jensen would even agree, but in the days following, he spent hours on the internet researching and buying things for Jensen. He wouldn’t show Jensen what he was getting. He wanted it to be a surprise, but Jensen had blanket permission to say no to anything he wasn’t comfortable with. Jensen appreciated the offer, but Jay knew him pretty well, and he didn’t think it would come to that.

Jensen woke up Saturday morning to his cock in Jared’s mouth. He gasped and gripped Jared’s hair and was coming before he was even fully awake. Jared crawled up his body and kissed him breathless, sharing Jensen’s own come as their tongues tangled together.

“Good morning,” Jared said.

“Hey,” Jensen said, gruff and relaxed.

“Can we play today?” Jared asked. He nosed under Jensen’s jaw, ran his tongue across the stubble on his throat.

Jensen shivered. Jared had his hand on Jensen’s cock, working it back to hardness too soon after he’d already come. Jensen squirmed, his head thrown back, neck bared.

“Not gonna let you come all day,” Jared said. “Gonna keep my pony so hard, make you hold it for me.”

“Jesus fuck,” Jensen moaned as he shot all over Jared’s hand. He knocked Jared’s hand away from his too sensitive cock, then he grabbed at it, pulled it up to his mouth, stared Jared in the face as he licked the come from his fingers. “Not gonna be able to get hard again after that,” he said when he’d finished, grinning, his lip pressed to Jared’s palm.

Jared was staring at him, his mouth open, his tongue licking the corner, his pupils blown. But at Jensen’s words, he grinned. “Wanna bet?”

Jared pulled Jensen out of bed.

“Go wait in the living room for me?”

“I’m naked,” Jensen said.

“And you’re gonna stay naked unless I decide to give you clothes,” Jared said.

Jensen’s cock gave a painful twitch at Jared’s tone of voice, and he couldn’t stop himself from shivering. He had the absurd urge to answer Jared with a “yes, sir,” but he stopped himself, nodded, and wandered into the living room.

When he got there, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He felt unmoored and anxious. It wasn’t like he’d never been naked in his own living room, but there was something different in the anticipation of this, in wondering what Jared was doing in the bedroom, what gear he might make Jensen wear, what he might make Jensen do.

By the time Jared walked into the room, fully dressed in worn jeans and a v-neck tee, a black leather satchel gripped in one hand, Jensen was a mess.

“Jay,” he said, shaking his head.

“Hey, man,” Jared said. He grabbed Jensen’s face between his hands. He smiled at him, something gentle and intimate about it. He rubbed his thumb across Jensen’s cheek bone. “You and your goddamned freckles,” he said.

Jensen huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes.

“There you go,” Jared said. “Just calm down, baby, okay? You’re gonna be fine.”

Jensen nodded. “I know,” he said.

When Jensen was calm, Jared pulled away. He had the halter hanging from his back pocket, and he brought it up to Jensen’s head, slowly, as if Jensen really might shy away the way a horse would. But Jensen just lifted his chin and watched Jared closely. He could do this.

“Good boy,” Jared said.

He slipped the halter over Jensen’s head, and Jensen pulled in deep breaths through his nose, his stomach and cock fluttering at the feel of the leather against his skin and Jared’s big hands adjusting the straps—one across his forehead, a joining one between his eyes that split around his nose, metal rings at the corners of his mouth, a strap below his chin to hold it all snug. Jared slid a finger between the strap and Jensen’s skin, testing to see if it was too tight. Once he was satisfied, he pulled a rolled strap of leather from his pocket—a lead rein—and he clipped it to the ring below Jensen’s chin.

He rubbed a hand through Jensen’s hair around the halter, tugged on his ear, and Jensen couldn’t help but lean into the touch.

“This is all you’re gonna wear for now,” Jared said. “There’s a bit, but until you get used to this, I want you to be able to talk to me if you need something.”

Jensen nodded at him.

“Don’t abuse it. It’s a privilege I’m giving you. Horses don’t talk.”

Jensen groaned as his cock hardened even further, and Jared smirked at him, wicked.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said. “You like that idea, don’t you? Bet you’re disappointed I’m not gonna bit you yet.”

Jared scooted up close to him, took hold of his cock, stroked, helping it along until it was fully hard again. Jensen pressed his face to Jared’s shoulder, practically whimpering, and Jared held him there, his grip on the lead rein tight, controlling. Jared’s hand stopped moving, and Jensen gasped for breath against his shoulder, mouthing at the cloth of his t-shirt. He knew he was leaving the shirt wet, but he couldn’t stop himself. The taste of Jared made him dizzy with want, and when Jared snapped a cock ring around his balls and dick so that Jensen couldn’t come until he was allowed, Jensen closed his eyes and gave in. Whatever Jared wanted, he would give.

Jared cupped the back of Jensen’s head in his hand, then ran his hand down his neck, rubbed between his shoulder blades.

When Jared pulled away, Jensen blinked up at him.

“Hands behind your back, pony,” Jared said.

Jensen complied. Jared dropped the lead rein so that it laid against Jensen’s bare chest, the leather cool and soft, then he walked around behind Jensen and adjusted his arms, pulled his shoulders back and made Jensen clasp his forearms with his hands. He leaned around Jensen and pulled something from the satchel, two leather cuffs, and he wrapped them around Jensen’s forearms and wrists, binding them like that behind his back. Jensen pulled in a harsh breath and clutched his fingers around his elbows.

“Jay…” he didn’t know what he wanted to say, but it didn’t matter.

“Hush, pony,” Jared said, his voice gentle. He smoothed his hands between Jensen’s shoulder blades again and upwards to cup the crown of Jensen’s head in his hand. “You talk again without permission, and I’ve got a quirt in that bag with your name on it.”

Jensen groaned and leaned his head back into Jared’s touch, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“That’s a good pony,” Jared said. He dragged the thumb of his other hand across Jensen’s Adam’s apple, then petted down his chest, dragged his thumb across a nipple. When Jensen shivered, Jared chuckled, then pinched the nipple between rough fingers, tugged at it painfully until it was pebbled and tingling and Jensen’s cock was weeping pre-come from the slit in a way he wouldn’t have thought possible after already coming twice.

“Well, would you look at that,” Jared said, moving to Jensen’s other nipple and flicking it a couple of times. Jensen felt heated, boneless, leaning into Jared’s touch so that it was only Jared’s hands holding him up. “Knew you liked your nipples played with, pony, but this is something else.” He rolled the nipple between his fingers, tugged hard. “You’re leaking down there, baby. Gonna make a mess. Maybe if you’re real good, I’ll put you on your knees later, let you clean it up with your tongue.”

Jensen moaned openly at that. He fluttered his eyes open to see Jared smiling, and he butted his head under Jared’s chin, nuzzling at his neck, his jaw, working his mouth wet and sloppy against the stubble across Jared’s cheek. When he got to Jared’s mouth, Jared tugged away.

“Uh uh, pony,” he said. “You gotta earn that.”

Jensen opened his mouth to tell Jared to fuck off and just fucking kiss him already, but at Jared’s raised eyebrow, Jensen huffed. He stomped one of his feet for good measure. It wasn’t difficult to picture the quirt Jared mentioned, but that didn’t mean Jensen had to make this easy on him.

Jared laughed. “Oh, you’re gonna be so good at this.”

Jensen tilted his chin up. Yeah, I’m good. What of it?. And Jared just laughed again. He pulled Jensen in close by the lead rein and kissed his forehead.

When he pulled away, he clicked his tongue and gave the rein a tug. It was more difficult than Jensen expected to follow Jared through the house this way. Jared had a tight enough hold on the rein that Jensen had to stay close, and his chin was pulled downward so he could only see his own feet and Jared’s calves and heels. When he tried to look up, Jared said “no” and tugged down on the rein, and the metal rings dug into his cheeks.

Jared stopped them in the kitchen and dropped the rein again to rest against Jensen’s chest.

“When I let the rein fall like this,” he said, “you stay where you’re put.”

Jensen nodded, a little shaky, but he calmed some when Jared rubbed at the skin behind his ear then ran his hand down across his shoulder, kneading the skin.

Jared left him where he was, and Jensen watched, curling his toes against the cold tile of the kitchen floor, as Jared wandered around the kitchen slicing fruit and cubing cheese and piling it into a bowl. Jensen’s stomach growled at the sight, and he shuffled in anticipation, his cock twitching, still hard and leaking at the thought of where Jared might be taking this.

Jared grabbed the bowl of fruit and cheese up in his hand before tucking a couple of bottles of water under his arm and turning back to Jensen. When he picked up the rein, his fingers brushed softly against Jensen’s chest, and Jensen leaned into the touch until Jared clicked his tongue to get Jensen following him again. Jensen moved without complaint at first, but even with his chin tucked almost to his chest and Jared’s grip on the rein providing no slack, he could tell they were moving outside. The closer they got to the door, the more his steps dragged until he stopped completely, making Jared unintentionally jerk too hard on the rein, and Jensen hissed at the pain of the leather biting into the sensitive skin of his cheeks.

Jared turned, set the bowl of fruit and water bottles down, and was in Jensen’s space immediately, tugging his head downward until Jensen had no choice but to press his head to Jared’s chest. Jensen whined, tugging a little to test the slack, but Jared gave no quarter, and Jensen’s stomach fluttered with how big this was, with how much control Jared had right now, with how Jensen felt like nothing but a big dumb animal on his master’s leash.

“Jay,” he said, just to make sure he could.

Jared’s fingers smoothed over the skin at the nape of his neck. “I know, baby,” he said, his lips against Jensen’s ear. “You’re okay. I promise.”

Jensen just breathed. He tugged at his arm restraints, really feeling them and what they meant for the first time. He wanted to put his hands on Jared’s hips, feel the warmth of him, but he couldn’t. He whined again.

Jared seemed to know what he wanted, and he wrapped Jensen up into his arms. It was awkward with his head tucked the way it was, but it was Jay—his skin, his favorite so-soft t-shirt, the smell of his body soap—and Jensen let him calm him down.

“Okay?” Jared said after a time, and Jensen nodded as best he could.

“I left the bit out for a reason,” Jared said. “I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you with this. We’re gonna go out in the yard, but no one’s gonna see us. I’m gonna work you hard all morning, and if you’re good for me, then I’m gonna let you come.”

He dragged his fingers along the head of Jensen’s cock, thumbed at the slit, and Jensen, hissed. If he could have, he would have come from that touch alone. Jared laughed and Jensen butted his head against Jared’s shoulder.

“Good boy,” Jared said. “Such a pretty boy. Pretty pony. I’m gonna take such good care of you.”

And Jensen wanted that. He did. He could tell this meant something to Jared, and he wanted to make him proud.

He followed Jared out into the yard, the grass soft beneath his feet, the sun warm on his skin, spilling across his shoulders and the bared nape of his neck. He looked from the corners of his eyes to the privacy fence, but his distraction caused him to stumble a bit until Jared tightened the rein. The dogs danced around his feet. Harley barked, trying to entice one or both of his masters into play, and when they didn’t respond, he turned, took off after a squirrel, baying into the quiet of the morning.

Jared stopped and Jensen felt a flutter of pride when he stopped, too, and without stumbling. When Jared dropped the rein against Jensen’s chest, Jensen tipped his head upwards and watched him carefully, waiting to see what would happen next.

They were standing next to a small round patio table. Jared set the bowl of food down and ran his hand across Jensen’s head, down over his shoulder.

“You gotta be groomed, pony,” he said, kneading Jensen’s skin, massaging the muscles in a way that made Jensen feel weak in the knees.

His cock was painfully hard, though he was surprised by how little it concerned him with everything else going on. And he didn’t know what Jared meant by getting groomed, but at the moment, he didn’t care. Nothing mattered to him more than this man’s hands on his skin, than this man’s pleasure and happiness. He wanted to be good for Jared. He wanted Jared to make Jensen feel he was good.

“Hungry, pony?” Jared said.

Jensen tucked his head and nuzzled his nose against Jared’s arm in response. He knew he could nod if he wanted to, to give Jared his answer. But he didn’t want to. He felt himself sinking further down into this role, feeling safe and comfortable with Jared there to lead him. It made him shiver and want.

Jared picked an apple slice from the bowl and held it to Jensen’s lips. Jensen’s stomach and cock both fluttered, and he flexed his fingers behind his back and his toes in the grass before he took the fruit with his teeth and lips and chewed slowly while Jared petted him all over. When Jared held up another piece of fruit, a grape this time, Jensen took that too, nipping at Jared’s thumb, his teeth gentle against the rough skin.

Jared took Jensen’s chin in his hand. “Careful, boy,” he said, but he was grinning, and he fed Jensen a cheese cube. There was a sharp burst of flavor across his tongue as Jared dragged the tips of his fingers across Jensen’s bottom lip.

The feeding went on like that—half the mundane reality of eating breakfast, half foreplay—until Jared seemed satisfied. He pushed the bowl aside and covered it with a cloth before leading Jensen away from the table. When they stopped, Jared pulled his satchel close and took a few things from it. He knelt in front of Jensen, sliding one big hand down Jensen’s thigh and across his shin to wrap around his ankle.

“Up,” he said, pressing backwards, and, awkwardly, Jensen lifted his foot, hopping sideways a little until Jared put a hand against his waist to steady him. “Gotta clean your feet before we put your new boots on,” he explained, rubbing at the sole of Jensen’s foot with a soft bristled brush that both tickled and soothed.

Jensen squirmed, laughing a little despite himself. Jared grinned up at him, reached around and swatted him on the ass.

Jared set the brush aside and picked up what looked like a sheet of leather, but as Jared slipped it onto Jensen’s foot, he realized it was a boot, and when Jared let go of Jensen’s ankle, let Jensen put his foot down sliding the shoe further into place, he saw it was formed like a hoof, a glinting metal horseshoe on the bottom. It kept his heel high off the ground, and he leaned, a little unsteady, as Jared moved around behind him, pulled the leather up to hug his calf, then went to work lacing it up the back. When he was through, he moved to the other foot, and though it was more difficult to stand steady this time, he managed as Jared brushed the skin then slipped the other boot on. As he laced this one, he trailed kisses up Jensen’s calf, and Jensen shivered, his cock sluicing pre-come, sticky and wet. When Jared was finished, Jensen couldn’t help but look down at himself, arms bound behind him, useless, cock standing proud and red, bound in leather, legs gone, just sleek black hooves now, and he felt like the horse Jared had made of him.

He was shivering hard by the time Jared stood, and Jared shushed him and smoothed his hands over Jensen’s shoulders, rubbing hard between his shoulder blades. He tightened his grip on Jensen’s rein, then he went to work grooming him, rubbing the soft bristles of the brush in circles across Jensen’s skin, over his chest, laughing when Jensen squirmed as the bristles reddened his nipples, then down his stomach, across the sensitive skin above his cock, lingering there, thumbing at Jensen’s slit with his other hand, smoothing pre-come over the head and up the shaft before moving the brush around to rub circles over Jensen’s rounded ass, the small of his back, his shoulders and biceps. By the time Jared was finished, Jensen was boneless and half asleep, leaning into Jared’s touch. He knew he looked like a dumb animal, his mouth open, his lips wet, red and bitten, completely relaxed in every way except for the need in his cock, the answering pulse of want beginning in his ass, and the fluttering of some feeling he didn’t quite understand that had started in his belly the second Jared had said he wanted to take care of Jensen and that had only grown stronger since.

“That’s my good pony,” Jared said, one hand across Jensen’s throat, heavy enough Jensen felt the pressure in his Adam’s apple when he swallowed, the other tangled in the rein and tugging Jensen’s head down so Jared could press an open-mouthed kiss to his cheek bone right above the metal ring of his halter. “You good, pony?”

Jensen ducked his head further, trying to show he was okay through his submission.

“Good,” Jared said. “Then it’s time for the last piece before we get to work. I’m gonna give you the bit now, pony. Once it’s there, you’re mine. You gotta be good for me. Let me lead you through your paces. You won’t be able to complain.”

Jensen butted his head against Jared’s shoulder, then looked up at him through his eyelashes. As Jared’s hand moved around for one last squeeze at the nape of Jensen’s neck, Jensen kissed Jared on the shoulder. He dragged his bottom lip across Jared’s exposed collar bone before pulling his head up as far as Jared would let him.

The bit was smaller than Jensen would have expected. It was a roll of leather that hooked to the rings at the corners of his mouth. He opened for it easily, Jared running his hand across Jensen’s head while he slid it in place as if to comfort him, but as soon as it was locked on, his mouth held open, his tongue pressed to the bottom of his mouth, he bit down instinctively. It had little give, and he breathed through his nostrils, taking harsh breaths.

“Hush,” Jared said. “You’ll be okay.”

He smiled at Jensen and knocked the knuckle of his finger against the point of Jensen’s chin. Jensen blinked at him and tried uncomfortably to swallow around the bit as saliva pooled around it.

“Good pony,” Jared said. “We’re gonna have to name you,” he said. “Something tells me you won’t wanna be called Jenny.”

Jensen glared at him at that, and Jared smirked and tapped him on the ass with the quirt he’d threatened to use earlier, the two short leather tails of the riding whip making him twitch in surprise. He tugged on the reins to get Jensen walking.

At first, he just walked Jensen around the yard, letting Jensen get used to the feel of the boots. He stumbled some, but Jared held the rein tightly so that Jensen had no choice but to watch his and Jared’s feet and follow close. He could hear one of the dogs dancing behind him, hopping through the grass like they were playing a game, and it made Jensen flush to think of himself like this, like he was another one of Jared’s pets. He moaned a little, crazy turned on. It came and went in waves. He was hard, probably harder than he’d ever been, but there was so much happening that the arousal was secondary until it wasn’t, and then Jensen felt crazy with need like if Jared would just stop walking for a second, Jensen would hump against his ass and beg with his body to feel Jared’s hands on him again.

Jared whistled to one of the dogs and tossed a ball out into the yard and they both went bounding away. Jensen’s feet ached, and he was openly panting now, drooling around the bit no matter how hard he tried not too. He felt sweaty and tired and ashamed and aroused and when Jared stopped, loosened his grip on Jensen’s rein, then crouched to greet Sadie as she came running back to them with a stick hanging from her jaws, Jensen stomped his booted foot and huffed around the gag and through his nostrils.

Jared stood and turned to him, reined him in close. “All right,” he said.

He dropped the rein against Jensen’s chest, and Jensen stayed where he was put while Jared wandered into the yard. When he returned, he had a water bottle in his hand, and he removed Jensen’s bit, held the bottle to Jensen’s mouth, and Jensen drank eagerly. When half the bottle was gone and Jared pulled it away, Jensen opened his mouth for the bit, expecting it now, and Jared praised him with his hands and his words. Jensen flushed under the praise and tucked his head. Then he let Jared lead him into the center of the yard.

Jared had a longer rein wrapped around his forearm. He unclipped the lead rein from Jensen’s halter, wrapped it up and shoved it in his pocket before uncurling the other.

“This is a lunge rein,” he said, holding it up clip first for Jensen to see.

Jensen knew what a lunge rein was. Both of them had grown up in Texas. They’d both spent time around horses. None of the materials were new. But doing this for Jared? Letting him clip that rein to the harness he’d already accepted? That felt huge and new and more than a little scary. But Jensen tilted his head when Jared reached for him, let Jared attach the rein, and when Jared clicked his tongue, tapped Jensen on his bare ass with the quirt he’d pulled from his kit, Jensen got moving, watching Jared carefully from the sides of his eyes. Jared held the rein tightly while Jensen walked circles around him, stepping high in his boots and stumbling until he got used to the length of the rein. Eventually, they fell into a rhythm, Jensen ducking his head and trusting Jared to lead him, trusting the feel of the rein in Jared’s hands and the sound of Jared’s words.

Jensen was panting and sweating by the time Jared stopped him. He was still hard—the cock ring was still there—but he barely noticed. He felt loose and sated, the way he did after finishing a poem and being satisfied with his work, or after he and Jared had spent a day in bed, fucking and relearning each other’s bodies.

Jared unclipped the rein and ran his hands over Jensen’s body, across his shoulders, rubbing his neck where Jensen hadn’t even realized he was sore. He unclipped the arm cuffs first, and Jensen let his arms fall loose to his sides, tingling as the veins flooded with blood. He hadn’t even realized his arms were asleep, but now he could barely twitch his fingers. He blinked up at Jared, and Jared kissed him on the forehead before rubbing Jensen’s arms, massaging them bicep to forearm before massaging each of Jensen’s fingers individually, working feeling back into them.

He pushed at Jensen’s shoulders until Jensen let himself settle onto the ground, awkward in his boots. He laid back at Jared’s urging, the grass soft and cool on his bare skin, and he looked up into the clear sky while Jared unlaced his boots and slipped them off. He pulled Jensen’s feet into his lap, massaged them one at a time until Jensen was boneless, moaning through the bit with how good it felt.

Jared chuckled, brushed his thumb up the hair on Jensen’s thigh. “Feel good, pony?”

Jensen just whimpered in response. When Jared’s hand moved to his cock, when his fingers curled around the hard length—slick with pre-come—Jensen opened his legs and tilted his hips up, begging and unashamed of it. Jared knelt between his legs and licked a fat, wet stripe up his cock, root to tip, before curling his tongue around the head, pointing it and working it into the slit. Jensen gasped then clenched his teeth against the bit, and Jared took him in his mouth, hollowed his cheeks, and sucked until Jensen’s toes curled. Jensen opened his legs further, and Jared brushed his fingers along the soft skin behind his balls, moved them down to circle his thumb around the furled muscle of Jensen’s hole.

Jared brought Jensen right to the edge, and when Jensen realized he couldn’t come, the cock ring still holding him back, he tossed his head back and made an angry noise through the bit. Jared laughed again, released the cock ring and pressed with his thumb at Jensen’s prostate at the same time, and Jensen came so hard he was dizzy with it, moaning loud enough he was sure every neighbor on the block would hear.

He was barely aware of Jared suckling his cock until it was soft and over-sensitive. Then Jared crawled up his body, his jeans scratchy against Jensen’s bare skin. He kissed Jensen’s eyelids, removed the bit and licked across his cheek and into his mouth, and Jensen just opened for him, happy to let Jared maul his mouth. When Jared pulled away and smiled at him, Jensen closed his eyes, let his lips curl into an answering smile.

“Take me to bed, Jay?”

“Yeah,” Jared said, his voice rough with arousal. He was pressing his nose and mouth to Jensen’s neck, sucking and biting. “Yeah, baby.”

Jensen curled his hand against the curve of Jared’s scalp, held Jared there while he kissed down across his collar bone.

“You’re going to be insatiable tonight, aren’t you?” Jensen said, hitching a breath when Jared bit his nipple.

Jared’s response was muffled against Jensen’s skin.

“You gonna fuck me, Jay?” Jensen said, making his voice low and dirty. “Fill me all up with your cock? Make me sloppy?”

Jared grabbed Jensen by the waist and flipped him. Jensen had to scramble to get his knees under him in time, then Jared was there, spreading Jensen’s legs and opening him up with his thumbs and lube he must have had in his pocket. Jensen listened as Jared undid his fly, then Jared was inside him, slick and big and painful and good, and Jensen groaned.

“Fuck,” he said, dropping his head. “Gonna have grass stains on my knees.”

Jared laughed breathlessly. “Gonna mark you up a lot more than that before the day’s over.”

He spread a big hand across the flat plane of Jensen’s stomach then thrust one, two, three times, scooting Jensen through the grass before he was coming. Jensen was hard again by that point, and Jared moved his hand to strip his cock, hard and fast so that Jensen was coming too before long. They collapsed together into the grass, and Jared curled around Jensen, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him against his chest until they were spooned together.

“We should probably go inside,” Jared said.

“You gotta let go of me if you want me to move,” Jensen said.

“Not ever gonna happen.”


	12. Visiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen goes to a literary conference in D.C. and misses Jared.

It was cold in D.C., and Jensen’s hands and lips were chapped, his cheeks red from the bluster of the wind kicking up street dirt. He buried his chin and mouth deeper into his scarf – Jared’s scarf. He’d borrowed it before he left, and it still smelled like Jared. And a little like the coffee Jensen had spilled on it the day before, but Jensen didn’t mind that. Coffee and Jared were his two favorite smells.

Jensen weaved through a group of kids in their school uniforms. They were smoking and laughing, and Jensen wondered if bumming a cigarette off a minor would be a check in the inappropriate column.

He knew he should be back at the conference, browsing the book fair and trying to get editors and agents to remember his name, but he just didn’t care. He had a stomach full of greasy Chinese food, a six-pack of beer in a grocery sack, and he was headed back to the hotel to call Jared.

Going to the conference in the first place had been his counselor’s idea. He was seeing a counselor now, not a psychiatrist. According to the lady at social services, he just needed someone to help him manage things, manage the day to day. It seemed to be working. Between his meds, his writing, and Jared, he’d been good for a while. He’d had a setback a few months before, a manic episode, but Jared had brought him to the hospital (even though Jensen had fought him on it the whole way), and with the right adjustment to his meds, he’d gotten a handle on things again. This conference was supposed to be good for him, help him pursue his interests and be social without Jared as a crutch. And it hadn’t been bad, even if he had spent most of the time wandering the city, taking pictures with the camera Jared got him for his birthday, eating cherry fro-yo until his tongue was frozen numb, then returning to his room and watching HBO and gorging himself on room service. He was going home tomorrow, but still, he wanted to call Jared. He wanted to hear his voice, make him smile, even if he couldn’t see the smile. He wanted to tell Jared that he’d had the best pizza he’d ever tasted for lunch today and that he missed Jared so much his lungs ached with it.

In the hotel room, Jensen dropped the six pack in the mini fridge, took off his coat, slipped his shoes off one by one. He splashed his face with some warm water from the bathroom sink and dragged his wet hands back through his hair. He didn’t bother looking at himself in the mirror. He was tired, and he knew what he’d see if he looked – reddish stubble edging into a beard, dark circles under lined eyes, chapped lips. He was tired. He wanted home. He wanted Jared.

He flopped on the bed and picked up his cell, Jay’s number on speed dial. When Jared answered on the fifth right, he sounded out of breath, like he’d run to get to the phone. He sounded as if he were smiling.

“Egon Schiele or Max Beckmann?” Jared said.

Jensen huffed a laugh. “Schiele,” he said. “But only because he painted a lot of nudes.”

“Pervert.”

“You bet.”

“Hey, Jens.”

“Hey, Jay.”

“You sound tired, man,” Jared said.

Jensen imagined him settling into their couch, cradling the phone against his shoulder. “A little,” Jensen said. “When I see you, I’mma fuck you then I’m gonna sleep for a week.”

Jared laughed. “You fall asleep during sex, I’m cutting you off.”

“Oh yeah? Got so friendly with your right hand while I was gone you don’t need me anymore, huh?”

“My right hand’s useless. I miss you. My dick misses you.”

“I’m touched,” Jensen said. “I think.”

“Hey Jen?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you wearing?”

“My Little Pony pajamas.”

Jared laughed into the phone, a low chuckle that made Jensen curl up warm inside.

“Sexy,” Jared said.

“Well, I am Jensen Ackles. I could make culottes and a fedora look good.”

“Let’s never test that theory, okay? Or doors aren’t wide enough to fit a fedora on top of that ego of yours.”

“I wish you were here, man,” Jensen said. He hated himself a little for admitting it, but it was Jared and it was true, so it was right to say it to him.”

“Aren’t you having fun at all?” Jared said.

“I like the city. I like it a lot.”

“And the conference?”

“Same as it was yesterday and the day before. I don’t fit in here, Jay.”

“You published three poems in the Paris Review. I think that officially qualifies you as a writer, Jens.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jensen said.

“I know.” Jared sighed a little, just a puff of breath into the phone.

“I’m being stupid,” Jensen said. “I am having a good time. I’m glad I came, but the conference blows, and you’re not here, so…”

There was a knock at the door and Jensen sat up. “Hold that thought, man,” he said.

“Sure,” Jared said.

Jensen stood, rubbed a hand down his face. “Someone’s at the door,” he said.

“Maid?” Jared said.

“Don’t know.”

“Room service?”

“I don’t know.”

“Concierge?”

“Jay, man, I don’t fucking…” He trailed off when he opened the door.

“Your boyfriend?” Jared said.

His smile was huge and a bit sheepish, his shoulders hunched like he was nervous Jensen would react badly to him being there when all Jensen really wanted to do was climb him like a tree.

“You can leap into my arms,” Jared said. “I don’t mind.”

“That’s big of you,” Jensen said.

Jared shrugged. “I thought so.”

Jensen kicked him in the shin.

“Ow! Jen!” Jared hoped a little, trying to rub his leg. “What was that for?”

“For coming here without asking.” Jensen slid closer. “Now c’mere, you big oa,f so I can see you.”

He slid his arms around Jared’s middle, slipped his phone into Jared’s back pocket to get it out of the way, then pressed his palms to Jared’s back and buried his nose in Jared’s shoulder.

“Hi,” Jared said in his ear.

He walked Jensen backward into the room, one hand in Jensen’s back pocket, the other pressed between his shoulder blades. He kicked the door shut behind them and, when they walked into the bed, he dumped Jensen there before crawling on top of him. He bumped Jensen’s nose with his own.

“Hi,” he said.

“You said that already,” Jensen said.

Jared kissed him, drawing it out, learning Jensen’s tongue, his teeth, the sensitive, ticklish roof of Jensen’s mouth that made him shiver if Jared kissed him just right. He shivered now, his hands clutching at Jared, pulling him closer. He moaned into Jared’s mouth, feeling desperate for him, and when Jared pulled away to sit up on his knees, Jensen whined before he could stop himself, almost as undone as when Jared put him on the bit and called him a god boy.

Jared dragged his thumb across Jensen’s lower lip. “Lookit that,” he said, “all swollen and mine, all shiny with my spit. You like that, Jens?”

Jensen just groaned in response, grabbed Jared’s thighs, his ass, tried to pull him closer. “Missed you so bad, Jay. Want you in my mouth. Want you to fuck my face.”

Jared grabbed Jensen’s hands, pressed them into the mattress. “You want that, you keep these right here where I put them. You got me?”

“Yes,” Jensen said. “Anything.”

Jared stripped his shirt off, looked down at Jensen with fluffy, messy hair and a grin that broke Jensen’s heart and hardened his cock all at once. Jared was plumping up, too, straining the crotch of his jeans, and Jensen licked his lips, imagining the taste of him. He wanted to smooth his hands across Jay’s chest, wanted to bite Jared’s nipples until he screamed, but he stayed put and was rewarded when Jared lowered his fly. He was bare beneath his jeans, his pubes thick and dark above a cock that was growing steadily more red. Jared stroked himself a few times, gathering pre-come and working it down the shaft, over the fat head, which popped in and out of his fist, obscene.

“Been wanting this all day,” Jared said. “I been sitting in that hotel room down the hall, horny as hell, waiting for you to get back. You been waiting for me too, Jens?”

Jared worked his way up Jensen’s body so his dick bobbed in Jensen’s face. Jansen didn’t even bother answering, just chased the hand with his open mouth until Jared grabbed him by the chin, stilling him.

“Uh uh,” Jared said. “Don’t be greedy.”

He smeared his cockhead across Jensen’s lips, painting them with pre-come before digging his fingers into Jensen’s jaw and saying, “open up.”

Jensen did, the whore’s moan that wanted out of his throat silenced when Jared fed his fat cock right on in it. Jensen tipped his head back in invitation, let Jared use his throat, the smell and taste of him overwhelming. When he could tell Jared was close – long, deep thrusts turning to shallow rutting – he grabbed Jared’s ass and pulled him in close and Jared came like that, with a grunt, his cock deep inside Jensen’s throat.

When Jared pulled out, Jensen gagged before he could stop himself, and when Jared looked concerned, Jensen just patted him on the thigh, smiled and pushed Jared over onto his back. Jensen stood and pulled his clothes off while Jared watched, his eyes heavy, his body lax, content. When Jensen was bare, he climbed back on the bed, buried a hand in Jared’s hair and kissed him while he rutted against Jared’s hip until he came, his spunk spreading warm between them, coating their skin. He rested against Jared when he was finished, his head pillowed on Jared’s arm, his leg thrown over Jared’s, Jared’s taste in his mouth and Jensen’s come cooling between them.

“I thought you’d be mad I came,” Jared said when their breathing had settled.

Jensen reached to the end of the bed, pulled the comforter up and over them. “I might be later.”

“But not right now?”

Jensen laughed, scratched the stubble on his chin across Jared’s shoulder. Jared squirmed away and pushed Jensen over onto his back.

“I’m glad you came,” Jensen said. “Let’s stay in all night and fuck, then tomorrow we can explore the city.”

“Sounds perfect.”


	13. Trip-Hop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Jared’s been gone for four days at a conference, the boys are more than ready to see each other again. 
> 
> Note: This is the first fic I wrote for this verse. It's set a little over 2 years after "Stray."

“Hello!”

Jensen perked his head up from the bed. He was laying half on, half off, the bedspread a rumpled lump of fabric beneath him, and he’d been laying the exact same way for maybe an hour. Or two. There was definitely a possibility that it had been three hours, but he thought probably not. He hoped not, anyway, because that would mean he’d spent the entire day here, that he’d gotten up, gotten dressed, laid down for “just a minute,” then spent the entire goddamned day laying on the bed and staring at the ceiling, the only thought in his head the occasional thought of Jared’s too big/just right hands all over his body.

“Hello?”

That was definitely Jared’s voice, which meant Jared had come home from the conference early, which meant he would know Jensen wasn’t in such good shape. He’d meant to be on top of things by the time Jared got home.

Jensen listened to the murmur of Jared’s voice through the house. He was probably cooing to one of the dogs. Probably Harley because at some point Sadie had gotten onto the bed with him and he’d not noticed. She whined like she wanted to get up to greet Jared, but just scooted on her belly closer to Jensen, bunching up more of the covers as she moved. She pressed her cold nose to the side of his face.

“Hey, girl,” Jensen said.

“Hey yourself,” Jared said from the doorway.

Jensen willed himself into a sitting position. And then he smiled, and it wasn’t even faked at all. That was Jared over there, leaning against the door frame, all miles of long legs and dimples and floppy hair hanging all over the goddamned place.

“Hey,” Jensen said, his voice rough. He didn’t think he’d spoken to anyone for the entire four days Jared was gone. “You gonna come say hello?” he said.

Jared shook his head slowly, the dip of his eyes turning slightly sad.

Jensen arched an eyebrow. “Really,” he said, deadpan.

“Come over here and kiss me, Jen,” Jared said. And Jensen knew this game. This was get the crazy person out of bed time, and Jared held all the cards because he knew Jensen wanted that goddamned kiss.

Jensen stood and walked to Jared. He ran his hand from Jared’s hip, up his side, fingers touching lightly to make Jared shiver. He was always so sensitive. Jensen wrapped his arm up under Jared’s and pulled Jared to him with a hand pressed against his back.

“That’s awfully forward of you,” Jared laughed.

“I guess I’m just that kinda guy,” Jensen said. His eyes were on Jared’s lips, and when Jared leaned down to kiss him, Jensen ducked his head away.

“Hey!” Jared said, but Jensen just grinned, tilted up, and caught Jared’s bottom lip in his teeth. He worried it until Jared groaned and fluttered his eyes shut, then Jensen kissed him for real, coaxing Jared’s mouth open further, tasting him.

When Jensen pulled away, panting for breath, Jared pushed him roughly away, then was on him again in a second, pulling at Jensen’s t-shirt until he got it over Jensen’s head, then working at Jensen’s pants like he was starving for it.

“Aren’t you even gonna buy me dinner first?” he said, his breath hitching in his throat as Jared bit down on a nipple.

“Let’s fuck,” Jared said. He went to his knees. “Then we’ll eat steak.” He smiled when Jensen laughed, then he was nuzzling at Jensen’s cock through his boxer briefs, and every thought that wasn’t this man and fuck and love him went right out of Jensen’s head and all his blood gathered in a warm flood in his belly and cock. He ran his hand through Jared’s hair as Jared pulled Jensen’s briefs down just enough to get to his cock, and without any fuss at all, took Jensen in his mouth, all the way down.

“Fuck,” Jensen groaned. Jared hummed in response, his eyes fluttering open. He looked up at Jensen as he bobbed his head, and Jensen was glad for Jared’s hand pressing against the small of his back because otherwise he might have fallen flat on his ass and that might take all the sexy right out of the situation. Though, the way Jared looked hungry for it, going at Jensen’s cock like it was the only thing he’d been missing in life, Jensen thought it might take more than a little sex induced clumsiness to turn Jared off.

Jared reached up, his fingers soft and searching at Jensen’s face, his jaw, his cheek, then finally finding Jensen’s lips and coaxing Jensen to take his fingers into his mouth. Jensen closed his eyes and sucked them in, swirling his tongue around them until Jared pulled them out with a wet pop. When Jensen opened his eyes, Jared grinned a bit around his cock, breathing heavy through his nose, and there was a dot of pre-come on his stretched lip, and Jensen touched it with his thumb, dabbed at it before spreading it into Jared’s skin. Then Jared was running his wet fingers down Jensen’s crack, and Jensen spread for him without much thought, spread for the feeling of Jared working him open, and he suddenly couldn’t wait for Jared to fuck him. He wanted to be sloppy and loose and so full of Jared he’d feel him for days, and that thought and the press of Jared’s fingers at his prostate had him shooting, his cock crammed deep into Jared’s throat, and Jared just hummed and swallowed it all.

He suckled at Jensen until Jensen was oversensitive and boneless, then he stood and walked Jensen back to the bed, pressed him to lay down, then lay right on top of him, his ear pressed to Jensen’s chest.

“Jay,” Jensen groaned. “You’re heavy, man. Come up here and let me take care of you.”

Jared shook his head against Jensen’s chest. “I’m good,” he mumbled. “I just, just let me feel you right now, okay Jen? I just wanna touch your skin.”

Jensen ran his hand through Jared’s hair. “You okay?” he whispered.

“Was worried about you,” Jared said. “I worry…I never know what I’m gonna find when I come home.”

Jensen stilled, and he felt his heart trip-hop and pick up speed, and he thought Jared could probably hear the beating of it.

“I’m okay,” Jensen said. “Look,” he said. “I’m here.”

“Know that,” Jared said. “I love the sound of your insides.” He sighed. “Is that weird?” He finally looked up at Jensen, and his nose was scrunched up, and Jensen felt like he could relax a little.

“No weirder than you saying you love the smell of Harley’s head,” Jensen said.

“Well, Harley’s my boy,” Jared said.

“I thought I was your boy,” Jensen said.

“No, you’re my dawg,” Jared said.

Jensen groaned. “What the hell did I say about you calling me that.”

“Shut up,” Jared said. “You love it.” He smiled and eeled his way up Jensen’s body until he was laying fully beside him. He tugged and pulled at Jensen until he had him positioned where he wanted him, in a kind of sideways, laying down bear hug that Jensen wanted to grumble about but let himself sink into anyway.

“You know, this would work better if you were naked,” he told Jared.

“Shut up,” Jared said. “I just wanna feel you.”


End file.
